out the window

of the familiar city

made unfamiliar

by its emptying

its shuttered facades


still the yellow houses

the red hibiscus

a raptor perches

on a wire above Elysian Fields




seen from the third floor

the people on balconies—

a man in a black shirt, his torso severed

by the banister and the stair-

well he descends,

a woman striped with morning sun—

float between the houses


the sun empties its pockets,

tosses down its coins


an invisible bird

screeches and screeches

its warning