Louise thinks of Milton Keynes as home. It’s a shame
she’s never been there. Louise likes
straight lines, grids, streets labelled by letter and number. She dislikes
uncharted routes, illogical ornament, choices.
Soppy street-names like
Meadow Fields and Songbird Close
she especially despises:
they lie to her. There never are
meadows and songbirds.
One day Louise will land at her glass-and-concrete paradise,
step out of her convertible and
all the street letters and all the street numbers
will march towards her, in formations she can understand.
She’ll navigate her moments by the maps
they pace out in her head.
In Milton Keynes Louise will know exactly
which route to take, at what time of day;
and more importantly what to wear and what to say on her way
to wherever it is that’s the right place to go.
She’ll be safe. Once she’s gained these landmarks.
And maybe then she’ll sing outside the lines,
Maybe then kick through some grids.
In Milton Keynes Louise will feel her first smile. She’ll smile
as she sits astride the concrete cows and
she’ll ride those babies hard down the boulevards
and yee-hah! them up onto the wild wild roundabouts.
S.A. Greene writes micro and flash and the odd (very odd) poem in Derbyshire, UK. Words in or about to be in Sledgehammer Lit., Ellipsis Zine, Flash Flood '21, Janus Lit. People's Vote winner in Retreat West May micro competition.