north Loop

On the north side of the river, buildings
rise to house people who deny the possibility
of dirt. After rain, a cadre called up
against mud pushes it back with hoses
and brooms, redistributes Fall with gas
powered blowers before it gets out of hand.

After dark, path is empty except for
a whole cupcake hurrying west, big
as the rat that carries it. Behind windows
that overlook the river are the normal
people the cop on the train had in mind
when he said some other all the other
cops knew not normal should wear a sweater
instead of turning the air conditioner off
and opening the door. Train was full of cops
in dress uniform this morning with opinions
about climate control and the university
being in the real estate business

not the business of education.
I used to find some comfort in thinking
rats and roaches would survive after all
the normal people were gone. But the rat
with the cupcake reminds me how much
they depend on each other. When the buildings
crumble and the trash is gone, they will die or go
in search of the excess of some city still
undead, trailing cadres looking for a shadow
out of harm’s way where they can pitch a tent.