when I look out the window
I see no shifting shadows on the
shallow cement
I see no paupers begging for a
hollow piece of bread
I see no hard nosed harlot
working to feed her kid
I see no Fantine
no Valjean
no Javert
only air and breathy
silence. in a silent
town in a silent
wooden room. with
silent desks, and silent
peculiar radios.