standing on the fire escape,
\nworn and rustbolted to the old brick
\noutside our kitchen window:<\/p>\n
i can hear someone beating a dog in the alley below me.
\nwhimpers and sharp whines.<\/p>\n
echoes between the sharp sound of slaps
\nand dull thuds of kicks.
\nthe low grunt of a man’s voice.<\/p>\n
i pull long, deep drags from my cigarette
\nand anxiously flick ashes in silence –
\nthey flutter downward away from the light.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
standing on the fire escape, worn and rustbolted to the old brick outside our kitchen window: i can hear someone beating a dog in the alley below me. whimpers and sharp whines. echoes between the sharp sound of slaps and dull thuds of kicks. the low grunt of a man’s voice. i pull long, deep … <\/p>\n