I want to go home
and sit
looking out the window
at the dark street
and the lonely lamp light.

Few people pass by
eyes forward
or to the ground.
I wonder if they feel
alone.

They are my friends,
I think.
But they don't know my
name, or even that
I am here.

They are my friends
though.
Woman in the purple jacket,
man in the black hat,
walking down my street.

I pretend to know them
and take two sips of beer.
One for me and
one for them.
I call the man Jack.