the aquarian peers out a pane
over a jar of singed smokes
what’s left of them rain-soaked
algae in the ashtray

the aquarian scans the opal glaze
over the one-way deciduous lane
unfussed herbs + weedy mint
unfurling vines, succulents

all crane moonwards
past balconies + treetops last lit
when february’s late sun slyly dips
perches for pigeons + magpies + girls
heads tilt, bemused, at the street + its swirl
of neighbours + foxes + buses + rats
lovers kissing, lovers in spats
children skipping over bottles smashed
biker + driver in a near-missed crash

the aquarian turns in from the drafty window
nods to the bassline, a look, then-“should i roll?”