Scrawled

what does graffiti tell you?

I mean, that graffiti, high on the train trestle,

30-40 feet above pavement

it could be code, anthropologists stay up nights,

to crack

could it be pretty nonsense? 
silently pointing to 
subtle, magical presence

it mocks modern infrastructure,

lost in speed, efficacy... metallic somnolence

a sudden cartoon, an ugly tattoo to obliterated commons

abandoned buildings celebrated by the dispossessed.

anonymists, sucking toluene perfume, 

climbing insane

angles, reclaiming the terrified night, 

have disappeared…

like cockroaches, like bats.

Stop us in our tracks,

let us SEE the world 
we have defaced.