(no subject)
The City at Night
By Adam Ahmed
The evangelist
with the megaphone
followed us all
the way down
Glenn St. to tell
us it’s not too late
to be saved. But I
was just thinking of
how much I love
the city at night,
the smell of burning
Cloves, the buildings
over our heads,
completely
brunette. And you
here underneath
my arm, teeth
chattering from
too much coffee
and not enough
sleep, and me
too with trembling
hands, hungry
for what? Nothing
is open now, save
the Store 24. You’re
hungry, I know,
but it’s late.
There’s only expired
sandwiches left,
the drowsy clerk
announces,
you’re too late.
By Adam Ahmed
The evangelist
with the megaphone
followed us all
the way down
Glenn St. to tell
us it’s not too late
to be saved. But I
was just thinking of
how much I love
the city at night,
the smell of burning
Cloves, the buildings
over our heads,
completely
brunette. And you
here underneath
my arm, teeth
chattering from
too much coffee
and not enough
sleep, and me
too with trembling
hands, hungry
for what? Nothing
is open now, save
the Store 24. You’re
hungry, I know,
but it’s late.
There’s only expired
sandwiches left,
the drowsy clerk
announces,
you’re too late.