Steam rises from vents and grates

The back-alley dumpsters are scattered

Whilst the smell of once fresh meat

And hot grease pervades the night

A guy in white uniform and lazy trousers

Sits on a crate making his smoke last

And looking into nowhere

Oblivious to the world

Oblivious to what is happening

A block away from the intersection

Oblivious to the freezing drizzle

And the puddles forming round his shoes

Oblivious to the shabby smelling hoodie

Staggering up the alley

A swaying ballet of pirouettes and carefully

Measured steps until he trips

And falls against a stack of bins

And black sacks disturbing a cat

The smoker stubs out the tab

And makes for the open kitchen

Returning minutes later from his kingdom

Of ovens curses and sweaty heaving bodies

He hands the hoodie a plate of steaming food

With a fork

Come on pop sit here and eat up

The old man sits up and smiles

Carefully scooping noodles into his mouth

Pleased to no longer be oblivious

To the world