Rusted coat hangers twist
mid-air, ropes strain through gaps
in the flooring, lighting equipment hulks
and in their shadow-
the rib cage of a tiny bird, a wishbone begs
to be snapped. Antique-lace spider webs hang
above the scent of rotting wood and decay.
On the wall: the ratio of glue to water.
In these spaces- phone numbers, signatures
and dates graffiti inner doors. Effervescent bulbs
leak liquid light into the rising tide of the blue
Theatre ghosts weave in and out of frame.