Right now, in this frame of time
My city is Noise
Drills. Dust. Delays.
The jagged, unfinished, droopy edges of buildings against the blue, blue sky
Machines perched next to pits,
The flow of traffic matches my steps;
Disturbed, reversed, stopped.
Potholes, stray dogs, piles of leftover bricks.
I walk on furiously.
Boys might jeer
Men might leer
I ignore the beckoning tuk tuk taxis
This is my city

I can think best in the noise
The pleasant kind
Schoolchildren jabbering in three languages
The crows dancing next to lunches in the park
Snatches of radio tunes from rolled down windows
A bus horn blaring is jarring but a part of the symphony
Of my city