When we were young
we watched incandescent flickering images
of people rising like a sea from train stations,
koyaanisqatsi in the Valhalla cinema
on Glebe Point Road late at night
and we swore we would never become
one of these faceless creatures
on escalators, on crosswalks,
mooching to jobs in dim airless offices.
We were determined to be kecak
singers rocking in jungles,
hippies digging our own vegetables,
late night intellectuals with coffee
and guitars in Seattle cafés forever.
But it is cold and here we are back
in a chilly Sydney morning crossing
from Central to the bus stop at UTS
along with 100 other workers;
the lights change and we move as one
off the kerb.
Speed us up and we will be the same
as those flickering beings
from 30 years ago
because this much doesn’t change,
not here, not that quickly at least.