I travelled into the City on a bus today. It only costs me $2.50 for a whole day’s travelling on bus, ferry and/or train in any combination. Today was just one bus trip into Town and one bus trip home but on the way we were stopped at a red light when people began looking UP – with disconcerted expressions forming on their faces. Whatever it was, it was above our bus. I was rather glad when we moved on.
It was at almost the same place in the city as the one Les Murray wrote of in this poem – AN ABSOLUTELY ORDINARY RAINBOW.
The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him.
The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
There’s a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.
MEANWHILE IN THE U.S.A.