In The City

The night has its own language,
in hushed undertones
the neighbors conversations
travel through walls
and concrete ceilings, though
it’s hard to decipher
whether they speak of
joy or anger but,
it doesn’t really matter,
as the cars on the road below
racy by, and one in particular
with an oversized muffler,
as if to announce, “testosterone
has just left the building,”
and is on the prowl for the night,
while a lonely dog howls
from where its been left alone
and locked in a third floor bathroom
to cry for a moon it can’t see,
because how rarely the night,
it never sleeps – in the city.

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