City Claustrophobia

I take a leak in the alley
that leads back into the city

catacomb apartments
tunnel rows

doors locked and crossed with bars
chains hung more for alarms

baseball bats and tomahawks
swords and spears

twenty-twos and thirty-eights
Grandpa's brass knuckles hung on a hook

a polished bowling ball and a sledge hammer
and a bucket full of stones

around the arch of the inside door
ready for war

nothing bought recently
where they can track you

trying to live in dreams of yesterday
never wetting your pants.