121 Elizabeth Street.
Suburbia is your labyrinth
Theseus the estate agent has settled you in nicely,
in what he calls: A modern Daedalus.
The view stabbed you in your beast heart
and made from wood like the kitchen floor
Strangled with a deal
You paid the mortgage with your life.
Do you watch the children on their way to school? And sing with them their seven times tables
And wonder how they'd taste?
Or pace and paw
and Grunt and Roar
A cat plays in your garden: is Aphrodite
Behind her looks of longing
It's enough to drive you mad
Where you lie, in front of the television dozing.
You've been here for years
Gosh doesn't time go so fast.
The Black 'For Sale' sign is still out the front
Do you hear the property value falling?
Or is that Aegeus passing by
121 Elizabeth Street