the roof

Feet danglin’ off the bellicose roof
where two dogs glisten with blood and saliva.
In the back, the man with a checklist looks down the line.
He appraises, does not solicit, he’s involved yet not illicit.
The bodyguard shows me his musket and says
“This here’s an old thing. Sturdy. See the smoothbore?”
He fired it straight into those dogs.
The boom was more disturbing
but they kept on snarling at each other,
unsure where the blood came from,
as it trickled into the rain pipe.


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