Such & such are the window displays of the city

I want this. I want that. Only wants congeal.
After all the films, & the books,
we click on other people’s lives.
Love is a sheet of sandwich cheese.  
Here & there, it gets stuck on your teeth when you let it loose on a bun.    
It looks tasty when it stays right between the two baps. It does taste good.
Overseas cost overmoney. To avoid a mindover,
Turn down the subwoofer & hum along just for your ears.
My mates say, ‘It’s not Yway if she doesn’t say “I envy you.”’
Don’t know if I’ve envied anyone.
Perhaps my prayers have tagged along with someone.
They were mine in the first place. I just want to rent them back.
If you have to survive on hope, you might as well be long dead.
The noise of grinding a thanaka bark & pounding chilli from upstairs,
Music from the other side, volume all the way up,
The snore of the tenth graders & university students,
The patient who was given six months—he will go any time,
Tossing & turning in endless psychotic nights,
Alcoholic, wobbly & hostile steps from the stairs that have kicked open the iron gate,  
Cusswords & trots from the ceiling . . .
A house built under a contract has no right to wish for
high-class condominium cultures.
Is this all about the lines between bourgeoisie / proletariat
Good circumstances / good timing / good place?
Each one goes bang-bang, playing her own ensemble of drums & gongs.  
Each of us, one another, three, five & ten.  
Powers come together when bases are the same.
Neighbourhood happens just right after the equal sign.  
Good & evil need not be separated,
they ain't end up in the same category anyway.
After six months, we’ll move out. After one year, we’ll move out.
The roll of papers in hand has taken flight after the ground plan.
Among the woofing mutts from upstairs, downstairs,
from the left, from the right, & from the street,   
this howl of mine might as well be instinctual.

SUCH & SUCH ARE THE WINDOW DISPLAYS OF THE CITY