hanging garden

evening on locke street, one of steeltown's two gentrified blocks, and we are walking to the public library at dusk. turn the corner and there it is, a noose tied in orange rope, her plush black body hung from a tree. the homes in this neighbourhood are brick and stately, but this one is always a bit overgrown, and the fence is wrought iron. her torso and drooping breasts, long nipples, are lycra and shiny in this low light. her head is deflated; not as well-stuffed as the drooping breasts. her skirt is also black, a stiff taffetta, gathered at the waist. she is the size of a woman. the craftsmanship is excellent. i am a very scared crow.