A.M. From Suburbia Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

as pigeons scuff the milky sky
and magpies mock the crows' scrawl
there at their allotted spots
knees raised high
backs against the wall
they wait to be transported
to the scree-slopes of it all

and from the decks of coasters
over the hills
and with elbows astride
the window-sills of silvery jets

the singing of songs
they would never wish to hear
even if the screaming stops
and the siren sounds
the 'all-clear'