Staring out the Fifth Floor Window

The crane moves hundreds of pounds of steel
a   c   r   o   s   s the high rise, and the couple
a   c   r   o   s   s the street can’t afford food

We drive in our model city while the
s                   l                 o              w
Drip
Drip
Drip of the silo
poisons the porcelain water

‘What is the purpose, then?’ I ask
‘Why must the green and red and blue and yellow mix

        to make gray?

The pop art pops into museums
sans culture

Tax breaks
       break the bank

so it’s empty for those who need it

Cool.

Rabindranath Tagore said ‘let my country awake,’
and awake it should be!
Can be!
Can it be?

Ride the bus or it will squish you
Wear the boot or it will squish you
Squish the bus or the boot, you still get squished

What, then, holds the key?
The stars
hold dreams

Dreams of a world of color and rain
Lamplight and bread to go around
Not far off, but just next door

Behind a barrier made of steel.