the man hanging from the 16th floor window in soundview

hears voices

they come out of nowhere in the dark

when the lights dim

sometimes, it's alley cats meowing and scratching at the door

sometimes, it's the sounds his abuelo's voice

and sometimes they are gigantic dudes of color

whispering for him to get up

this is when he wants to hold on to his youngest child

at night, and fall back into his dream state

and the man hanging from the 16th floor window in soundview

hear other voices

some of it is screams 

out from below daring him to jump

they would push him over the window

others cry emphatically from the sidewalks

pull their children up like free weights 

and caress them in their arms

they would help him, like helping themselves

but he is the man from the 16th floor window in soundview

and he himself knows he is hanging by his fingertips

his own flesh

his own threshold of indecisiveness

he think of his kids

he thinks of his mother 

he thinks of his father

he thinks about all the men he has been

of all men

he thinks about the complexion of his skin

and the streets of sounview

the train station, the baseball field off the highway

he thinks about the shiny moonlight nights that glows

his mind chatters like a neon

he thinks about the 4am time of lonliness

that have folded him up like death, discordant

without and logics or reasons that leads to a conclusion

his teeth would break the edges of his mouth

he would finally speak

the man hangs from the 16th floor window in soundview

crying for his lost soul in his own life

he sees the sun setting north over 1-95

he believes the remembrance of listening to his own life

break loose

as he tumbles 16 flights on the rosedale side of soundview

, or he climbs back up to reclaim himself again