Of course we desire it: stand back and watch
the daily clustering: our mouths fasten
on the speech of the city
we wake to its milkmen and sweepers, we die to the
ululation of sirens

We desire its roundabouts and carparks
such spaces we cram ourselves in, to be together
in spilt oil and dripping concrete
We punch a hole in our life
at the machine - we pay good money for this.