A bull-hauler in transit, glutted with bovine,

Incentives last seconds of life,

But in the cold

Awaiting slaughter…what dreams 

May become? 

Sighs made visual  

From the cattle’s nostrils 

Escape through air-holes,

Strike!

A neighboring windshield

And challenge exhaust fumes

For space. Gale forces beckon 

An abandoned mattress 

Crowded with Twix wrappers,

Flayed like open wounds,

Catching sunlight 

Out of an overcast sky. 

Profiles in charcoal 

Eclipse the golden trash 

And enter 

Stairwells, vacuum sealed, 

Submitting pin-drops

To amplification: 

Echo-Laden-Blathering.

This is the cost of surveillance. 

Repurposing stairwells 

As fire escapes.

_

_

Two lovers face their bedroom window 

He reaches for her hand.

She services him listlessly. 

Reflections share 

Pin Drop silence 

And flames begin 

To take the floor away.