up the hall dogs barking 
diana rearranges white
peonies & a spilled vase

monotone crouching
in the corner with some
one else's girl & see!

the guy who came here
on his bicycle why he's 
circling the building again
no longer measuring or 
able to the hour in bloom
when gravity pulls at 

things well children all 
this sweet fermented stuff
so i look at you & you 

look back at me  & luck  points
a silent finger cocks
the hammers & the patrolman with

his belt full of bullets flinches -
why no officer nobody
here did any complaining!

George Wallace