Jake's Flea Market

somewhere under this same moon bulbed
night of right now a pair of shoes crunch
footsteps across the gravelled ground of this instant

someone walks away from the door under the words
shaughnessy hotel in neon spelt
across one of the black walls of the immediate 

i don’t even think to look through the current 
mural of lights in the neighbor’s windows and 
streetlights against the backdrop horizon of a dark wall to 
see who walks in a village north on the twenty-five to see
if it’s someone i know

i can’t hear the footsteps