Cosmopolis

We walk through crowds thicker

Than our skin,

Molecules of all tones and textures,

99 point 9 percent the same.


The lull in our voices,

Estranged ears bridging

Paths across oceans and seas,

Gifting new alphabets to our neighbours.


Synchronized,

Fingertips on touch screens

A tap away from Budapest,

Abu Dhabi or Brazzaville.


Our eccentricities mingled,

Soaking in our drinks,

Sprinkled in our plates of food,

Tabled multitude under pub lighting.


A crack in our eggshell heads,

Gaping for all to peak through,

Swirls of all colours,

Where language is but façade.

Don’t talk to me about the weather

Faculty diversity at UBC: Slow but steady

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