Scrubbed its walls, deconstructed,
people can slip through the cracks;
escape with only sadness.
a stack of six burnt chapattis
roofs scorching black
from the cooking fire,
empty sacks of flour
filthy water in a mug, cold,
at the edge of the garbage dump.
a squinty eyed rickety woman
scratching her old wounds,
stick to her side
bloated bellies, blank faces of children,
sucking their thumbs.
pungent smoke fills the dirt lanes,
frozen moonlight on a small trough
melts slowly in despair.