The boombox blares from 2nd street,
gangbangers down by 3rd,
the homeless man sits waiting by
the crosswalk, crowd unnerved.
The public transit bus sits idle,
its windows gath’ring dust.
The police in their neat uniforms
break in on some new bust.
The streetlight by the coffee shop
is on the fritz again,
protesters in the street nearby,
their faces very zen.
I sit in my apartment here,
looking out at all the fuss,
enclosed in this amusement park,
my body turned to dust.