It's a thursday/wednesday night
and the air is so thick
and heavy with droplets
you can see them hanging in the air
like old TV grain or
white noise.
Across and above me
the amber orbs of street lights
hang out of saturated cloud
spilling onto the pavements
like a radioactive leak.
It makes the grit shine
like waste packaging
of a chicken takeaway:
yellow, lending a taudry glitter
to greasy surroundings.
But the streets are clean
of people tonight.