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Somewhere, the 9 till 5 office worker stops me with a deadpan stare,
Fixes me with the times of timetables passed, the graph paper squares
Of tomorrow’s schedule. The high-rise offices never bother to look down.

I never liked the city.

Never really cared
for the city’s callousness, its daily suicide,
the shadow at the top of each building that watches with certainty.


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Tags: city, despair, Greek Myth, medusa, poem, poems, poetry

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