Mosi makes animal old man chit chat
with a head dance and cork screw arms,
taking turns to lift.
He makes us shy and happy and scared,
makes me think to hold his foot,
press my face against the window –
let him in on outside pulses
without feeling them first hand.
Not much going on, anyways:
fruit stands, track pants, foil on the ground.
Caution tape in front of chain link,
astroturf in front of brick.
Music from a far off bike,
block by block.