Alex Shapiro

[doorway]

We pack into our back door-

way between the bike rack

& the trash, drifting towards

sunlight & the waft of lit charcoal, & with

the basslines we hear through our halls

nightly as Jimmy hands plates across

the fence & hedge partitioning the play-

ground from our alley. Kids jostle for

helpings & tap plasticware with the cymbals.

We all join the refrain:

like sunshine & rain.