now that you ask, it’s just like

any other night, bums hustling

for handouts, hot greasy streets

as the crowd from the club empties

out, and the bus

for the band sits yawning –

the hungry night consumes

all life, this sad city with

its polished brick streets and

holy rubble and the immense quiet after

the intensity of the band,

the ringing in your ears,

the absence of life

by Cher Bibler