At the End of My Rope

from the rope
of a wooden-gallows,
swing I,
the outlaw,
the main attraction
of today's gathering
in the courtyard
of some small, un-nameless
town,
from whose bank
I stole,
now the townspeople
mouths agape, stand in awe
as the hangman trips,
slips and falls,
thrusting me away,
soon untethered,
feet free to run,
hands-free to steal
another day
in another town
somewhere down the road
far from justice.