Dark is the Night, Hot the City

Dark is the night, hot the city.
Armpits sweating beads of population,
Running down in rivulets, unlit,
Glinting in the passing rays of nighttime car lights.
Tall buildings, tall hairs. Sprouting from the streetskin.

Passing through the breath of the lungs,
Hot and moist, deep breaths, hot panting ones
Marked skin with the scratches of unseen nails
Bites, refuse, hot city tableau, families of them.

The dancing discordance of jazz that isn't heard
And all around me the odd, the absurd movement
Of life, unlived like life. Lived like desperate moves,
Fun found in the blood underneath the city.

Dark is the night, and pressing down like a muffle
On the city's exuberance, its trouble;
The citizens are a part of the darkness, they know it -
Old friends, yellow streetlights, cigarette butts burning.

Dark is the night, hot the city.