Carrying voices, they move you with someone else’s words,
delivering the unwanted invoices of sealed dreams.
Employed to scuffle with dogs, they are Hermes
in a uniform, fighting early morning thunderstorms
on feet that blister like pavement popcorn.
Hi-vis jackets around the post office hives
pigeonhole by postcode, answering tourists’ questions
about the road well taken, the wisdom of drinking dens,
airgun assassins and pyromaniac veterans;
Councillors turn to them with local concerns.
By light, they are extinguished, wincing at school buses
and the morning rush to catch the train;
a laxative of elastic bands trails in their wake.
by Stephen Watt, Dumbarton
Author of books Spit (£5) and Optograms (£7.95) copies available via social media or by e-mailing Wild Word Press at firstname.lastname@example.org