Running rampant they tear the banners
down from the street poles that claim
we are the city of trees. They pile them
all up in a circle of stones and using
lighter fluid incinerate their meaning.

Unlucky birds are picked off of telephone
wires by drunk college kids with BB guns.
They flatten aluminum cans between their
hands when the situation demands it,
and don’t think twice about the consequences
of anything.

A girl looks at herself in the mirror and adjusts
her shirt so that the window to her cleavage sits
just right and her outfit finally comes together.
She has been dreaming about dancing all week,
but has done nothing about it until tonight.

A group of lost people tickle the inside of their
elbows with needles and have conversations
between themselves and the things they see
when their blood is in the bedroom with the
various elixirs of the street.

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