SEVEN A.M. IN THE SMOKE

‘No surrender’

The motorists’ battle-cry

Echoing through the smog and fumes;

Furiously-pedalling cyclists

Sinisterly masked

Towing technology in their slipstreams

            Legions of static transporters slowly going nowhere

Human perambulators

Reeling them in one by one

Phantom headlines flashing before my eyes;

FOUR PEDESTRIANS MAIMED

BUT HE GAINED TWO CAR-LENGTHS

Onwards to the asylum!