Shouts

From third story windows
Down to corners where men
Stand together, chatting about
Baseball
To the neighboring stoop
For one cup of sugar,
A sheet of foil, and pan
Out to umpires who can barely
See beyond the tips of
Their noses
At passing cars that will not
Yield
To let another driver pass with his
Pregnant wife ready to deliver
Of the ice cream man to
Running children who long for
Vanilla dipped in, no, sprinkles, no,
A sundae, maybe, with a cherry
No-
Between angry spouses who cannot
Understand why you never, ever
Listen, do, say, understand, clean, go, stay
Of a wavering horn
To those who can spare a dollar
Or quarter, or not to mention that fifty
Some man tossed from his limousine just
Last week
Over louder music that streams
Down from the rooftop
Into the opened window and keeps
Him awake all hours until
He can't stand it
Of jazz, or reggae, or babies' screams
That won't stop for anything
But naked, bared breasts on
Park benches
One tenth of an hour long
Coming from the radio
Or live venues
Or wherever else anyone might
Hear them