I like the place where rhyme’s forbidden
you have to hear just what’s
there
in Jersey City
five am shouting, sudden Monday across the narrow street
through the double glaze too – hard hats, tapes, bossing about
all this anger goes into building a building
it comes down from the top of the tree
the shouting in so many languages
then the cops come, work stops for a bit
you wonder what’s going on…
the cops leave
either nothing really
happened or I don’t know what did
now the reversing alarm, it’s all louder than it was before
you can’t even lean out the window, shout ‘shut the fuck up!’
they wouldn’t hear you, they wouldn’t listen if they could
they might not understand
anyway, the window doesn’t open
someone’s got the blow up rat out the front, dinosaur size
the placard says ‘pay your workers!’
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