Intro
What do you see
From your window
People sleeping homeless
in the street
What do you see
From your window
The sound
Of many
marching feet
The poem
The poem
Before now
Carried only one reader
The one
Who talks to himself
But now
Like a little Hercules
It carries
Ten or more readers
On its shoulders
It is stronger
Then I thought
The vowels
Bulge like biceps
The consonants
Are full of protein
It looks to the future
– Without me