The sounds of a city roar up to the heavens, Sharp screeches and shrill shrieks. Laughter. An ensemble of beeps. Silence. Encore.
A sell out
At a traffic light, faces on loop

Her Frown. His Nod. Their Grin

Red lips .Amber hair. Green eyes.

Red hair. Amber coat. Green skirt

Green light. Amber light. Goodbye.
The galloping of a thousand heels drowns out a homeless quartet; a splash of coins rescues the tethered bark of a starving dog.
The sound of a thousand tips echo across the foreign lips of strangers wishing to help at the maelstrom of all the spitting and swearing. The loneliest of the four pours the tips into a plastic cup and swallows every penny, tangs of copper no more bloody than his trigger finger, a muffled salute to every teen dressed in army green.
His shouts don’t reach the ears of joggers, tuned into each road, carried by the signals of their destination. A thrashing of music fuels a lifetime of laps, a marathon of ignorance. Only the cars that buzz do swarm and serve, yellow, green and blue, red and white.
Black
A helicopters whirls
The sounds of a city roar up to the heavens, Sharp screeches and shrill shrieks. Laughter. An ensemble of beeps. Silence. Encore.