Short Notice (Poem)

again I am leaving

what do I take from this place to the next

the grit of the sidewalks

sliding on the grime of unknown stories

flakes of discarded lives abandoned

like children orphaned in the eternal war

the harsh cries of the birds

resounding to each other a raucous challenge

warnings to we unheedful below

that we are interchangeable bit players in their world

the striking color of walls and posts

filling each gaze with baited brilliant hooks

gigs to grab attention and not let go

until the message has been absorbed without assent

and always always

the pleasure of moving silently solitary

through all the busy people on all the busy streets

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