Staying One Step of the Law

 

He arrived by sleeper in a city

whose name slips him,

flagged a cab and read out

a destination from a crinkled note.

Paid with two crisp ones:

one for the ride,

one for loss of memory.

 

The cabby assured him

with a three monkeys look,

then pointed to the hanging gate,

the peeling ochre door.

 

 

© Jason Rees 2004