The city is calm and sleepy at 3am behind steel shuttered blinds
     quiet and unassuming
The streets are strewn with leaves like forgotten children of the night before everything worth living
     was on the run and those at home were tidily aware of place and reason
     not downtown with the rest of the bums
The walk is long and smooth until roadblocks of carts and speeding ambulances melted daydreams
     of climbing trees or skipping down corners free of street cleaners and crowds of voyeurs
     or skies filled with concrete and flags
Tonight is harsh and barren and the gulls cry for shores unstained and sirens drift on the wind
     as reminders that everything is still fucked

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