Six flights up
old stairs
rusty and forgotten firescapes
that barely hold the air in place.
Voices subdued behind the ancient walls.
within there is a longing that endures all.
high above the street the air
hangs like Plexiglas.
cracked courtyards filling with rain.
the inevitable dust battled by gallant housewives.
Anger rampages so thinly beneath the surface.
the explosion, the thunder, the idle gun's report.
blood before the sirens,
empty faces peer through empty windows,
night encircles fear.
Death creeps up
six flights up
to still the beating of a drum.
Next door the naked tuba player hears nothing,
above, the destitute countess sleeps,
below, the pointed needle glides.
the moon consumes itself again.
The body removed,
the walls repainted.
six flights up
around around
the shark the fetus
the hearts decline.
Six flights up
time is strewn like anchovies,
the horseman is dispatched
the very wind is dammed.
Six flights up
neither the lawyer or his money circulates
in the darkness there are no faces
only perpetual raging moments
six flights up.
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