It takes minutes to leave the city. But to leave the city, mentally…
There are always nervous questions prior to departure. You must peel these off.
See this industrial district? It has fled nature.
Likewise I sometimes believe writing is an avoidance; you opt for a conversation with yourself. Living very far apart.
The houses have satellite dishes as standard; ears to the wind. Powerline towers, like posts of an enormous fence. These are and are not life-conductors.
Fields in which to expand, cease? As if cities were centres of forgetting. Gazing out the window, I swim the wild grass.
Published in Shadowtrain #23, October 2009.
Below: 'Powersource' by Patrice Lynne Young