La vía del tren subteraneo es peligroso.
Several board (everyone faking shut-eye),
pull out the students of history
(ID’d by their lesson plans).
Too late for remedial anything.
Asked to pass. Told where to stand.
Dawnbirds grackle samename samename.
Some car alarm’s bleeping.
From where we watch, sunlines scale pocked walls.
“Renditions?” says a watchman.
Hunger struck, stuffing drubbed,
propped bodies keep falling down at standup.
“Think that’s funny?”
“Whatever’s eating you makes me tick.”
Could see it coming.
TV and walking-around life
chronicling ugly ties: repps,
red solids, Roman coins.
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