THE CITY EATS ITS OWN

She lived up the raggedy end

of a Surry Hills street;
the city held her in its dark embrace,
surrounded by the electric current
of inner urban life
that spluttered and stuttered
disconnected bright;
the sun struck beaches
bustling light;


her days were measured
in shadows and dust,
near the fashion district
with its hustle and bluff;
and the footfall folly
down Central Station halls
to the writhing underground,
and the overcrowded malls,


where the city grew high
and the people grew small
and the torrent of days
made her nothing at all
but a body now breathless
and still on the floor
for year after year
in a place, dark and poor.