Tonight

from the window I saw a round world but then everything changed they threw garbage bags in the square in front now the birds walk over them examine razor blades scratch in the crushed cereal box in the shadow of the dying fig tree a beggar made his home on a dry branch installed the clothesline old ripped pants and nothing else I try to read something in the thick cover book but the beggar starts to sing single string guitar to accompany at dusk he's drunk and rant I look anguished at the clock but i have nothing to look forward to in the sky the moon doesn't even appear anymore and the beggar's grumbles are muffled by the downstairs neighbors who start to fight