Everyone is on their phone, Ipad or Kindle
except for the old man next to me.
He clutches his shopping bag
and stares out the window
at the passing world.
No one sees me looking at them.
Occasionally someone glances up,
but sees only the space around me.
When I travel on the bus
I am emptiness.
This is suburban nirvana.
Elio Novello (Western Australia)
An independent poetry journal. Watch your step.
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