no market today
no

instead we sneak
like mice amongst millet
looking for pleasures
we aren't supposed to find

A cop rounds the corner
of the chain-link
and we duck down to dusty concrete

but high up on the roof
and along iron rafters
there is no fear of capture
only of falling
which is actually
closer to elation

I pause, alone now,
kicking at the wooden blocks
that spill out of the floor
and gazing upwards to green glass windows
trying to hear the trains