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Corruptions,
indecision
when
tired - a soul squats in limbo, the
stagnant
pools of convention. Exasperation eyes
scan
from car window the northern regions of the
North
Shore as it sprouts like toadstools more beige
townhouses;
these lego bricks are
copulating
madly - a
road
is rolled through them (also, must allow for a
golf
course here and there we
do
love our golf.)
Industry,
town-planning
residential
and industrial zoning considerations, a raft of
contingencies
to consider: noise, traffic (we gear down
into
another snarl-up) pollution, where best to tack
onto
an already outmoded sewerage system:
Vascular tunnels, our
slops to fish. (Toxic, guys, this berley.)
Somehow
no soul in "Pinehill" or "Bayview".
Too
easy the rows of simulacra stucco "let's go
Mediteran.."
Feel
late '90s builds to
maybe
no curtain call but ruffles
perplex.
Why this big hurry and at whose leaden foot
sits
the pedal?
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