Womb Birds

Lookout’s on the roof with the walkie, no birds in sight when children single file to school; dragon wings flap in the wind someone falls

Someone’s mother screams

Humpback junkie’s on the corner, cardboard cutout fixed.

Mothers of mothers in batas clank iron bottoms of the caldero full candela;

Titeritos ready to click up running their bread earning seals; cement salad.

Mothers of mothers outlive Titeritos and when birds rattle the sky

We’re alley rats running towards Light’s mouth

Back in the womb

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thanks for lookin out