by Melanie Cunningham


Bird calls and traffic are a good soundtrack

For the awakening bustle in the field by the railway.

Long hushed cane platters and glass lampshades see the light of day after years of quiet;

Rediscovery is the melody, a dogmatic beat

Poignant counterpoint to the life of the city surrounding.

 

Mustiness is freshened by the crisp new breeze

That blows through the racks of hopeful clothing

Huddled in higgledy rows – designer suits cloaking bikinis,

Nanna’s nightie now retro style to be worn over denim.

 

Lean, chenille-trousered ‘stallies’ unpack their wares

Nothing’s wrong today

Economy is a lifestyle, seeming virtuous

Madness reflects madness

The crazed insatiable hunger of the shiny plastic packaged city

A abstracted echo of the mad hunt for treasure in cardboard boxes.

 

The future starts slow, the wheels of so many bicycles

Turn, turn slowly at first, peddled lackadaisically

Become a coda and cycle through another reincarnation

A new life begun

Bike lust, bike lost

 

There are bigger problems

Peddlers exist in a repeating refrain month by month

Treasure buried and unearthed

Sideshows to the real economy.

 

Exercise - Create a 'found poem' using snippets of words you hear on the radio