Through the suburbs
built from poverty
with facades of bare bricks.
Those who came from Comingland,
came here to escape
the thing that you can’t escape.
Depression in the walk,
from being jobless to the street,
from care to no way out.
(Calendars in the kitchen,
naked women or icons –
they cross and pray
in front of them both.)
Illegal houses for tamed men,
the father of the municipality
will tame them before elections.
The suburbs are just
stations in between – from the inner state
to the centre of town.
But as the suburb dwellers
push to the centre
the citizens run from it.
To the new, elite suburbs,
that are only stations in between
on their way to their native place.