I arrive early,
come back later.
When I arrive later,
a certain look.
Sitting and waiting
on the wooden seat.
Shaded by the Plain tree,
leg hair moves in the wind.
odds and ends on election day.
A crow talks shit.
Maybe it’s a pissed off Cockatoo;
no, it’s a crow
perched on the sign Drinking Water.
Waiting and watching,
everything hurts from the hard seat.
Learning about people
and listening to random conversations.
The crow is a squeaky wheel;
the cloud cover dims the soft light.
The odd looks continue,
and my finger keeps touching the keys.
Saturday morning, in the madness
bursting with cars, and
a shit Council incapable of foresight.
On election day,
a day we should be grateful for,
I wonder about this two-faced place.