Room 1003 (avec un balcon)
Riviera rooftops pacify erratic city streets.
Humid rains pound against trash covered corners,
melting cardboard and faceting plastics.
To be grounded in a place like this is
to lack tropospheric flow.
So, I make eye contact with the clouds.
Down below, a boy pushes his brother
on a bike that won’t start.
I watch him gather his breath.
Il respire and he stuffs his stomach.
Lets go when he lets go.
The bike does not start, and the boy looks to find his breath again.