The "Scrub"

+ + The "scrub" + +
To escape the "scrub"
Noisy crowded interaction with other people
The press of commuters on a train
Scrowl of lunchtime shoppers
Busy streets teeming
Constant abrasive irritation of other people
I gently ease into a pool of thoughts
Focus on words and lines
Challenge self to convey an idea
For instance the absolute horror of the scrub
This primal scream desire for space
Not the privacy of human right advocates
The space to simply breath unencumbered
Not feel the stale air is fourth hand
Be able to stretch outward
rather than constant cramp of ligaments
As toes and feet ache
Knees complain of standing upright
How fierce heat from so many bodies
Erodes coolness of spirit
Badly spoken inane conversations aurally pollute
Stagnant sweat and industrial perfumes assault
All part of the scrub
A grating scrub I would escape
For clean air and sylvan surroundings
Or empty seaside surrounds golden
Beyond the constant tide of humanity
Where peace is me.