by The Juicer

Waves and hail crash the city –
Guttural sounds meet a smooth edge. Pin-pricks,
Window-sills dent and curve, around leaning walls and
Movie-like shadows, of glamor’s retreat.

The sweating condominiums will reappear,
Heat restored; cranking pipes, coiling belief. Respite
will be shining, shining,
If they can forget, the night’s intercourse.