Metal Roof Street

Loiter with me, 
at the edge of the street.

Metal Roof Street
unlit 
by any lamp.

We cannot sit
for that would be knit us
to the curb.

We must rather
skit ourselves
play the stage

give lust
to our rage
page
to our brooks

trouting
shouting silence
into the violent windows
that remain closed to our 
administrations.

Organization appears
according to observation;
we are being
watched.