The slow progression
Ghosts, headlights past my window
The million footed lives
And the slow drum beat of the city
The clip-clip of horse's hooves, the squeal
Of babies, tires, old gods dying in the gutters
The honking of street cars
And the ghosts
All million footed
Wandering, rootless

On the corner, thick shades hide
****** eyes
Laughter
Drowned in the sirens and the street cars
And ghosts
Million footed, Passing
Ethereal and true