by Sarah Yeung

the mechanical stitches of the city unfurl
in the racing pulse of traffic
coming and going
making blurred neon lines
a cyclist’s windbreaker billowing
in horizontal flight

under pigeon-marked awnings
street walkers mobilise in staccato waves
waiters step onto sidewalks
to exhale cigarette smoke
curling like iron balustrades over bridges
sheltering humans with no place to sleep

what else have these buildings witnessed
with their defaced sides and many eyes?

who can say what lies under our feet
beneath the treacherous pavement
hidden tunnels crawl and crumble
stones and bones resurrected for museums made of glass

trembling inside the earth
restless murmurs
threaten to ooze from fissures
in the impervious asphalt

we live on the swamp
we work on the swamp
we pretend it has always existed like this
the long dance of street lights and bus rides

but the land’s memory runs deep
the land’s memory is longer

Sarah Yeung | @sairywhy

Sarah Yeung is a Perth-based writer, living on the land of the Whadjuk people. She holds a Bachelor of Arts (Honours) in English and Cultural Studies and is due to commence a Masters of Teaching at UWA next year. She enjoys reading about writing and writing about reading. If one is so inclined, they can find her on Twitter @sairywhy.