Here is a recording I recently discovered on Youtube. I read my poem “Bay Road” twice.
There is wind in the recording. I think Kim Hunter shot it outside the Beetle Club.
Below you can read the poem:
Bay Road
In the end, the concrete rusts
and there is no distinguishing between
factory and house with children playing
in the yard. It is the syndrome of a city
losing hold of its people. Flags ripple
pointlessly on a street where cars go
from nowhere to nowhere.
A city close enough to a bay to be disrupted
by gulls, and far enough from the sky to not
be touched by its truth. All that’s left is a ritual;
one thing eating another.
The sky its clouds,
the cars their gas,
the rusting its beauty.