Calling from the tall building
the bare cry echoes like a bouncing
ball or a head taken off a statue

he shot into the bus at high speed
and yet passed clear through an open window

it was a spine in the column of the book
and a thumb wearing away the guilt from the edges
stealing the gold that came off each day
and keeping it in a little tidy pile
away from danger

he felt around the cupboard
for the tingling
but was left laughing
and electrical