We are distribution

7am. The grind.
Transit spins.
Hard day begins.
Lids life's dreams and squeezes them,
drips them slowly in small things,
unseen things;
bags of dirt to whole kitchens.

We are the oil on the cogs
that drive the wheels
that turn this city
and another.

We are distribution.

Bells ring for us.
Wait in for us.


Cor, 11th Feb 1999