Tyler Street

the cats rabbit their noses
those,
corduroy sofas
tossed to the side

like dice
boxed up

black trees
sough so
the old men

can recall meadows
overhead

as purgatory
induce with the smell of sap
and dead things
overgrown

the biggest alley way
without swank
lost in the

incoherent mutter
of mustached
men
trapped in lawn chairs

and skinny kids’ eyes
cementing the sporadic cracks
of sidewalk talk.