It starts with shrugging, "I don't care,"
diversions, loss, thoughts unaware,

discarded ashes, cigarettes,
the wrappers, cans, unread leaflets,

a wad of gum, some drops of oil,
or battered glass, the crumpled foil,

a politician's promise broke,
a siren, crime, commercial smoke.

Then cracks appear in weak concrete
as potholes pox a stricken street.

Foundations lapse from disrepair
behind the streetlight that's not there

where shadows crawl across the waste
within this city made of haste.