castles in the sky

i thought i saw a pony on a rooftop

between cyclone fence-caged potted trees

but it was probably just the spaghetti

of perception, the edgewise glimpse

out the window of the skytrain

as the station fell behind,

where beyonce's  wiggling hourglass

is plastered on the pillars flashing past

touting her ass for pepsi.

the spores of commerce

climb the blackened high-rise

abandoned by the invisible hand,

cooking up little recipes of doom

and justice is just a peach

beyond the reach of hoody boys

with a bag of snacks

from a convenience store.

and the crickets sing to the toads

who wait to eat them

between their boasts and croaks.

lust leads them to the street, fated

to become traffic flattened pancakes,

perforated shadow puppets……

like the rest of us who dare

to cross the thoroughfare,

staring at our smart phones.