On the Junction Street sidewalk
a body is almost ready to be taken away.
Daylight’s not being kind to him.
The flies touch and go in rising numbers.

The stain on the sidewalk looks like an umbrella,
but that won’t keep the rain from washing it off.
Someday, maybe, but not today.

The tense cops wait for the technicians to finish.

Two kids in the watching crowd
push each other around, and their fathers come to blows.
Bloodlust, once freed, is contagious.

On the fringe of the ugly crowd
a shrunken man knows he’s currently unaccused
and likely to remain that way. Tonight
he’s going to sleep well.

Kill or be killed?
The difference is so small sometimes
that you need to wipe the blood away to see it.