People Poems

	Walkmen As the earth passes faster Some signal of dusk floats them by Their heads plugged in to boxes Crepitate like flower heads The drugged sunset winks an eye Coaxing out the cicadas from them And then a monosyllable of drums Urges some nervous re-wiring Within them is a sweet chorus Closing the daylight to their sense Limbs stretch out as if rhythm Opens the petals and barminess Many boys and girls sip the same nectar Each bus-ride, train-ride swims them On a pheromonic tide. Each mute pair Of eyes seeks a percussive etching © David Incoll 2001
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