Up on the roof, twenty two minutes after midnight, the city
hums to it’s self, whispers in it’s own ear. Black sky blind,
sixty three degrees. Naked light, bulbs festooned on wires
strung between metal bones exposed. Pneumatic ratchet growls.
Howls alone, a train in the distance leaving.
Red light, Blue light ripples on the face of black glass facades.
Nobody home, lights on but nothing, no one. Abandoned heat
burning holes in the sky. Electricity vibrates, rubber rolls
up avenues of towers. Money, marble, granite, glass, steel & steel
& steel & barcode zebras at the crossroads.