(Audible groan)

Awake at 4 a.m. (again)

Awake at 4 a.m. again,
Watching the gloom settle on the hillside of rooftops.
And the city is awake, too.

Night is like a suspension bridge
Between one day and the next.
And it shakes so easily in the breeze.

As I listen to the neighbors,
With their Virgin Mary alter,
Listen to that one song on loop.

In morning I hear crashing,
Shouting from the far side of the wall,
And the plaster ripples against my back.

Fingers tense near the phone dial,
Back arches away from wall,
But I do nothing.