Knocking on the iron door,
"Do we need a password?"
A construction man opens the way.
A shrine to Buddha and our host,
glittering lights from a disco ball.
The raven girl sways transfixed
before the bass,
while a raggedy doll twitches
on the floor.
Stepping out the back to an alley,
"Fresh air is nice."
If you look straight up you can see the stars
just barely through the brick walls.
There is someone else,
a man in a chadri standing silently
and watching without eyes.
We are accused of stealing a purse,
and out we run.
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