please, we have reason
to believe you are in danger. Have you noticed
you are being followed by a suspicious, persistent
sense of urgency?
Step out of your car and onto footpath or cycle lane
for that trip just down the road.
Some wish the special features of their
bodily, family, industry factors would allow it
but are bound for now to various chairs and chariots.
For those who are not:
When did you last breathe the outdoors
all the way in, feel the thud
of your purposeful powerful footsteps
jolting your brain back into your body
and out of the to do lists, replies, should’ves
that will truly never end?
Feel the rush of the breeze, thump of your woken-up chest
as you bike past bored lines of impatient cars.
Kowhai
cat
cut grass
kid drinking the wide windswept day
you were there all along and I
never noticed.
Get out of your groaning fuming deadweight
crashable stealable metal glass boxes
that we hurtle forwards
right next to oncoming traffic
while scroll-gram-tok-texting ourselves to death.
Get out of fuel-gauge peering
grindy gearing, belt-squeal-fearing
insurance arranging, oil changing, WOF fundraising
parking
and crumbs on the crumpled car mat
hand, nose, tongueprints on the window again.
What if you swapped white knuckles at 10 and 2
for cycling gloves and bus card
keys for wee stack of petrol money
dashboard for longboard
brake pedal for break.
Insular personal vehicles may get me
the most efficient transport flow
but they don’t get US that.
If I wait my turn at the bus stop
releasing on-demand instant convenience,
I might pick up
the actual up-close sights, smells, sounds
of real-life people
with different stories, ideas, shortages, abundances to mine
who are nonetheless going somewhere
just like me.
Relational, collaborative and human-powered transport
like it all used to be.
What if we slowed down
full-time, part-time, once a fortnight
marinated in the humanity of A to B?
On the way, checked in, zoned out, caught up
and, in tandem, shaped up
traffic, air, pockets, headspace
and Papatūānuku, in the process?
See you out there.
