I was waiting for a sign,
a whisper from the gods,
or some ethereal being,
a divine tap on the shoulder,
a flash of lightning on the road,
a fifteen-foot Angel at the foot of my bed.
This morning I parked in Paul Street.
The machine sucked in my ticket
and as I fed it four euro in coins
it said to me – in grey digital letters –
‘CHANGE IS POSSIBLE.’
With thanks to The Stinging Fly where this poem was first published.
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