Southbank by Petra White

SOUTHBANK


1


When the system crashes, and the screens,

and palm-hugged

beaches that saved them,

crinkle out

the office tilts like a ship.

Small murmurs

of surprise, voices like children

who’d been playing in the shade,

shocked by sunlight,

flurry and subside.

The thermostat

shudders its seasons

of freeze and sweat;

furry square windows

seal in the boredom