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