They go into the maze
captives
A random city’s sampling
Waylaid parolees.
Then, at once, overlapping
gush out, in silence.
Coughed - into the street.
She sits quietly
flattened cardboard
Cup in hand, straining to hear.
Brakes, doors opening
the cages.
Pockets, passing by -
coins - hurry - jingle.
Mary sits calmly
Perceiving her nobility.
Steph
Gives me a lot to think about, Steph.
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