In orange haze

Deep amber faze

Staggering down the dark

The city brays

With unhappy trace

Of mange and mire hark

The night thrums

On oil drums

Sweet black fibrous tar

And jangling keys

That renew the grease

To drive your beat down car

Upon the roads

Pressed iron folds

A storied forlorn heart

I've had enough

Of rough and tough

nighttime

a dark room

i hurry past it

once, twice, three times

i work up the courage

to finally close the door

but not before peering in

and seeing

Nothing At All

white shirts and black ties

big smiles small mouths

much to say much to do

missionaries in missionary

'The Mormons are here!'

Us kids would announce,

And then run and hide

As our door was opened

1,2,

Two of us

Together

Two Gather

Concentrating on what matters

Everything matters