From my new a-part-ment
(two bedrooms, tenth floor
view of harbour and docks)
I watch two men meeting
over a table, paper-strewn
very little gesture, all talk
in a lighted office, tenth floor
(view of harbour and docks)
Their meeting finishes at 10:30 pm.
Lights off, another 15 minutes -
the ninth floor also darkens
(dock lights flashing, harbour
ready to launch its traffic)
I discover I think these men
will go home to wives who
suspect them of raunchy
escapades on city office desks.
But perhaps they're unmarried
child-free, late-nighters, late
risers, in a-part-ments on Quay St
just like me (lights winking
on docks, containers containing
who knows what, a loaded ship
sliding out to unknown worlds).