A bald bearded man,
in plaid sarong and voluminous
faded yellow shirt,

steers his bicycle off the lane,
un-straps and tosses a cardboard tray
144 eggs!

onto the low mound of garbage
that loops along the wall.
Blue eyes, filthy pale skin,

a battered naked doll
stares as he pauses and crouches.
Strapped in she perches

a totem
on a long iron bar
above a tin gate

No permission
without admission

“Already there!”
the egg-lightened man,
phone to ear,

returns to the bike
and rides off.
From the tossed eggs

stinky tears
into his piss-driven




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