Peer into a prisonarium
We travel in a fish bowl
Put your ear to the glass and hear
A mumbled roar with shrill highlights
Cardsharks hunched over scores and crumbs
Slapping cards and grunting with sly twitches
The surprise of a dog chewing its bone
As if this were an ordinary household
Inventory the scene; catalogue its contraband of loss
Tattered books, spines broken, shelved and bucketed
A dented cabinet bulging with life locked away
A closet weeping                  through painted pores
Tables ornamented with plastic treasures
Our bruised toys on display
And by my door, a stain
We all stoop to wipe away
An ordinary household
         of hungry bleeding women
         hunched over scores and crumbs
Burning their hair straight
Burning their lives down
Burning their popcorn in a microwave
         just like ordinary people
         on the subway.