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Friday, 25 May 2012

Of hearts, dead and alive

City has pulse,
a heart and heartbeat,
it breathes, we are told,
this diurnal of the machine-buzz
we inhabit,
the colour code creature
red, amber and green,
in at the school gate at 7.30
out at 2.00,
sign-in, sign-out of work.
But city-heart
of do-this-but-not-that
is not heart enough:
regularity and regularing, you see
are fragrant-free.
Rebel heartbeat now,
made of bleeding
made for perfuming,
breaks rules,
irregulates.
It is good, they say
for breathing,
for breath-taking
for breathlessness.


[From the collection 'Some texts are made of leaves,' shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2011]

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