Exit left from an X, first glares, then stares
aimed off in the late light and
hit me sat on the three church steps.
I’m just waiting for food (“ready in 10”)
Less restraint, “he”
with other hungered eyes;
-the burdens of us animal fruits-
Amid the scattered spring,
pollens lust up a nose
shrink a head, burst the bank and I know
this season, there will be a demand for sperm & spring rolls.
I send no sentence, place no crime.
But he gets it, more out the X. Bright red, the X
A redness of red (?), man too (?) in a white shirt,
under that hot light.
Yen – packaged & heavy – heft up & down this road,
where the old prison & religions ran out of money.
(the walk home)
Gentrified no gentlemen
Hill-side of the Green Field.
After all its’
we exit to a tin bell & a
n “see you next time”
Drip. A coin drops.
Sydney Road #1
1 May 2015