city

In darkness a far-off whine of sirens
when the seagulls have quieted
there is the scraping
of rats behind dumpsters
with lids open like
jaws, he reaches his arm
inside the mouths,
fingers groping
for a bottleneck
he listens for the clink of glass.

apartment windows with
blinds open flicker
like so many candlewick flames
illuminated by paper lamps from ikea,
there are cacti on the ledges,
spider-plants overgrown, a cattail
twitching here and there
a figure passes,
the west end sighs with
merlot on its breath,
blowing vancouver’s
famous cherry blossoms
from their limbs -
there are haiku poems
strolling the beach
looking for vacancies
and rent-control