Gone are the helicopters, chopping noise through the muggy sky
Gone is the cell phone's fractured reception
Gone is the cluster of armored buses before a fortified city hall,
soon to be reclaimed by the breakdancers and para-para drones
Gone are the solitary cops, walking beneath the bridges like Victorian-era whores,
making you want to look but not be seen looking
Gone are the farrowed cops, a Baker's dozen in every neighborhood
Gone are the streets barricaded with your tax money
Gone are the trash bins sealed like dirty secrets
Gone is the fear of being stopped for being whitey on a bike
Gone, gone, because gone too are Condi and her seven friends.
On the turntable: Thelonious Monk, "The Complete Riverside Recordings"
On the nighttable: Edith Shiffert, "Kyoto Dwelling'
On the reel table: "Jean de Florette" ( Berri, 1986)