5 AM Blues

You know you're up too late

When you see a wonder-bread truck roll by.

The blue-collar man is getting ready for work.

The white-collar man is getting ready to wake up.

The lonely man stares at the back streets,

Empty but for  false light that cuts through the predawn darkness.

The city is a void, a vacuum, waiting 

For another big bang.

To suddenly fill up with life,

Only to collapse on itself.

This is where I live.

These back streets lit by false light

Waiting to implode.

This is where I live.