I.
The new SMRT double-decker bus has a Pythagoras
Peephole into the world where the
No standing or sitting on stairs sign rested
As a Guardian of some civilised common sense. A
Sliver of the world lurch against the wall
On the other side waiting like tossing laundry or
Bending smoothie except what is the
Point of a peephole if you cannot
Press against it and listen
To the whispers of the passing world?
No standing or sitting. No one notices the
Opening in the full grey wall or bothered to
Catch the leaking smudge of life, the first breach of a sterile morning mind.
II.
Bridges are nothing without people. The one outside
My school was asleep when I tiptoed in and
Disturbed the energy-saving platforms
Rolling grumbling to shove me onto bridge level.
Quiet sunlight grew like moss where the shadows
Cannot reach. Blue and green tinted hexagons
Like scales. A sleeping python
Suspended in the air. Or moulting.
I disturbed the escalator going down
With both ends of the bridge groggy with inactivity
I realised it had foregone its existence
And turned into an art installment hovering
Above roads. Admired. Useless. And I wanted to
Turn around, walk the bridge
Again. Make the bridge. And again.
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