Spoiler! :
newspaper boys cycle around town,
hoping to find a customer
out walking under the purple sky,
cloaked in smog and shadows.
they are invisible to those who walk by
with their noses pressed to the
screens of their phones,
thumbs sore and blistering.
the papers go unnoticed.
one boy tosses his hat on the ground
and falls down with it,
crumbling at the edges with the
very essence of autumn.
he is last week's edition.
this week, everyone gets their news from
loud people on the television
and tiny text on the tinier screens
that describe their lives so well.
minimise, minimise, minimise.
everything and everyone are small enough
to fit in the businessman's pocket
as he passes the corners where the boys
set up shop all those years ago.
the boy on the ground
picks at an october leaf
and waits for snow to fall.
no dinner tonight.
no dinner tomorrow.
he smiles at the thought
and loses himself in dreams
where he stands at the axis of the world.
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