Never alone

always a meeting

the feeling, lime quarry

same damn trees.

 

Don’t have to ask

They’ll just tell you.

Stories hounded into place

Homer on sublocade.

 

The names carved

into the bricks have done

so much for the community

Or died.

 

You can spit here,

But no shop talk.

Your mom is here, with a big box.

It’s Sunday.

 

Once, they sued the house

So we could smoke here.

They signed a petition.

It is always raining.