one by one windows blink
whitewash, words written inside,
backwards, so few can make
out the “hell” and the “damn.”
footprints in old cement, the
ages walked this way,
when downtown meant white gloves
for the ladies and a snap-brim for the men.
summer heat pulverized tourists, and
little children went to watch “Bambi.”
Long ago a job could be found,
if only pushing a broom, dust
to dust into the streets.