Matted autumn leaves cling
To every surface
The cold concrete streets
The chipped facade exteriors
Of road lamps and me

Hugging my clammy skin
Little knotted up black things
That I have to pick off my skin
Only to have them get under my nails?
Those are abundant right now

The air is incredibly damp
It's thick with fog
Carrying a familiarly pungent
But ever disgusting scent
Of a funky little diner down the street