No sir,
I have not touched on my MYKI
And no,
I have no excuse
Other than to say
I was staring out the window
Watching the afternoon sun play
Like a sonata through the leaves
And the creased commuter faces
Of people in cars,
Gaining centimetres by the hour
And that I was
Trying to find the space to breathe
Knowing that this morning's wind
Carries the last breath of myriad others
Stolen by muzzle flash
Or shrapnel
Or the drip drip slow murder
Of calculating bureaucracies
In this frayed and faded seat
I was trying to find a way
To hold my body in order
To feel human, to draw into my lungs
An air so full of holes and yet
Still sift it for signs of love
And hold it
Till coalesced enough
To speak its worth
So, no sir,
I have no MYKI
And was not avoiding you,
For you do not exist
* MYKI® (at the time of writing) is the Melbourne public transport ticketing system.
© Brendan Bonsack
November 2015