warm night in a sandy maze of crumbling metropolis alley and the sky is orange.
from balcony i take a view and auditory equivalent of view of rubble highrose alley which is alien to me other than universal streetlight glowing orange onto everything. a group of 10 or more boys or young men walk away from the sea down middle of alley street in a clump beating drums and answering my question of what is that sound which drew me to look at alley from balcony 10 or more minutes ago, or maybe it was a cigarette that drew me. i throw my butt over the balcony and it lands on the balcony one floor below, and on the street a motorcycle flows through and past the group of boys and the boys keep walking into the distance and disappear behind a building. piles of sand and brick glow red from the brakelight of a car waiting for someone. a covered woman crosses the street and walks in same direction as the boys, away from the sea. laying on my back the yellowed clouds cover the sky entirely except for patches of sky in the shape of clouds and i pretend they are switched. It is the first time i’ve seen clouds in weeks. at this hour there is not much traffic, the constant horns have stopped. my friend comes out onto the balcony and we kiss and touch. Soon the sky will grow green with early light. laying on the balcony alone now looking up i wonder why anyone wants to live in america, it doesn’t make sense to me anymore. only this does. a year later it feels like a dream.