Do not utter a peep,
Just the whisper of the AC unit,
The city is asleep,
The glow of office buildings through the blinds,
Replace the stars behind,
Constellations if I choose to read them,
Guiding the actions of all human kind,
It is the witching hour, before the rush,
After the night owl's flight,
Nary a car treading the downtown streets,
Twixt drunken and work fights,
And dark and light,
Though really, which is which?
Drunk on living, sober until work comes,
The poor forever the prey of the rich.