It's quiet on the street tonight,
With staying in suggested now.
This city pavement's silent vow--
A gravel boneyard road late night--
Collects my mind and rattles it.
With little left to interfere
For those of us who've made it here,
Inside and out the counterfeit
Cross stages of this brutal script.
No angels left to take the call?
Tonight my friend learned how to fall,
And targeted perhaps the crypt.
Eighteen years of common hours--
Counted up on asphalt flowers.