Tree frog
The voyeur at my window,
clings to the glass
with his suction pad eyes;
enters the room like night
creatures go silent
when a twig snaps.
Noticed, he fades.
New grass springs back
slowly from a footstep.
Locomotion
Box cars explode with scrap metal.
Files of graffiti on rusty wheels polish
tracks in passing. Big steel blows through
elevator towns risen on rails going down.
Thunder unrolls righteous scrolls, raps
dayglo on black. Lightening leaps grade
crossings, bears banners of industrial artists
who practice targets, demand notice.
Bullets thwack approval on spray paint.
Incredible words bulk, hulk, split their thin
coloured shirts, stalk the sides of cold
rolled plates. Super heroes in ripped tights
refuse to surrender to their wounds;
drip iron- red rain into puddles.