Hot Summer Nights

In the dead of the night
the quiet becomes a roar,
as the stench of days gone by
and love that never was,
rises from their sewer pits
far below.

And no one ever notices,
except the few
who recognize the familiar scent,
for it is one
they have smelled
many times before.



Hot summer nights
were made
for lonely cups of coffee
and empty highway lines.
.
.