Fatal Fall Café sits above an abyss
A teenage boy and his big sister discuss
Fate as they perch on the cusp
She foresees that he will go down
Riding a plunging bus
To hang my clothes in the back
Of the M1 local so I can change
During the day if necessary
To worry, what if the MTA
Changes buses on me
On the nature walk the tall
Man’s blue-black hair brushed
Perilously close to the beak
Of the blue macaw
A big borzoi, our guard from predators
Refused to attack a tiger on the prowl
Loped around with a silly long-snout smile
The boys packed a Buick Eighty-eight
With dynamite and garden slate
Put it in a tunnel in the woods
And forgot about it
We sat on the floor in the dark
Waited for an empty table
The slacker staff served
Sticky watermelon candy
From a Lucky Strikes pack
Said the clean-cut young detective
I saw you in your fancy anorak
Playing in the park
With your big whale balloon
But why should he suspect me
For the subway smoke bomber?
I saw the kid light the fuse
Shout about some Cynthia
And what’s wrong with society
Was that enough to incriminate me?
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