Of
an Evening
Train
Five teen girls resolve
fishnets in suede oxfords but
argue Chinatown.
Street
“Mister, can you spare
some change so I can get a
bite to eat?” Repeat.
Bar
Sipping cucumber
from the bottom of the glass
I feel small, hot eyes.
Friend
You joke about life
long promises, and I laugh:
mine, obscured in ink.
Street
Cooler now, but thick
and quieter, we crush these
sidewalk seams with steps.
Train
Suited, once conductor
now patron looks back again,
offers one real smile.
I
wonder if those girls
made it to Chinatown, if
you got home unscathed.
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