Mike and I woke up Tuesday morning to a loud knock on our door, which Mike realized, upon opening the door, was …
Eighth Avenue at midnight
is a murky sea of smoke and rouge,
on which the battered hulls and tattered sails of the impoverished
struggle to stay afloat,
the jagged rocks below the waves,
more stubborn than steadfast.
A grey cloud tries to rise higher in the mire of fatigue