…the sign on the platform read
provoking that bloody-minded reaction
he saw as proof of living a life
still worth it, worth everything
worth going to bed
with a stranger once more
here might be the place
that could throw things up
burn the throat, whet the tongue
revive, refresh, rekindle
the screech of parakeets
colonising plane trees in the park
after-dark sounds on full reverb
in daylight on streets
of colour, black to white all blood
everyone from anywhere
who’ll do something, anything
no more bi this
no more buy that
stop and search me, why don’t you
I’m game as road-kill
as smart as street crime
as sharp as a wife
given half-a-clue to step out
and start out anew
~
n.b. 
Day 3 here is how the cards fell when I cut the deck: whet, game. (For TC).
~
CLP 03/04/2021
Voyage des Mots 
So clever! “no more bi this/no more buy that”. Good one.
Linda, Thank you…when you hit the big city things get simpler in some ways. Chris
Love the urgency in your poem, Chris, especially in these lines: “burn the throat, whet the tongue // revive, refresh, rekindle”–wonderful!💜
Great energy in this one! My heart rate goes up just by reading it.
Goodness! We have been stuck in our various caves for quite a while…who knows how we will cope with the evolving new normal?