a wuthering whispering wind

Photo by Akshay Gujar on Unsplash

The other side of the bay we find

hobos’ halls of resistance flashing by

where memory cascades into

avalanches on request, hobo to hobo,

intelligence tests, read last week’s news,

reading between the lines of this misty day;

most modern mobile minds are really quite unaware of significance

just click into life at 7am — with WiFi with work

providing ample assistance for the not technically

astute dilettante discontents who work here;

outside the hobos flip-flop from exhaustion to elation

in two easy stages: walk, sleep. Avoiding canals

as unlucky places where we hobos

only gather to wolf food, booze willfully

and argue about the imbecile

typology and ideology of the ‘settled community’.’