High-rise flat death
the cars themselves
shrunken in size
gradually
become
moving boxes
adhering to various lanes
defining the street
the whole stretch
clean and swept
by human hands
will see dirt
a deluge of it
in a minute's time
the colour of fear
weaves itself about
almost akin to
a whitish greyness
dyeing
this sinister quietude
cutting across blocks
circulating
swirling
making heads arch skywards
stopping footsteps
and its banal thudding
Someone is up there:
one whispers like a scared rabbit
a bet is taken up
someone ejaculates - Stop!
heaviness then falls
steadily
like the finale curtain
ending like any other play
the landscape
an uneven spread of urban traffic
distills into a red land
catching every eye
pinning them
never letting go...
