Hello.

From the walls of a dirty Detroit apartment.

And a broken world.

Full of artists

Full of wanderers

Full of the uninspired

Who sell their secrets in earth  and electricity

Where young smokers collect and breathe in the collective filth of their lament. Their sickly smiles commune nightly. Proclaim your dissatisfaction! But live instead in lonely visions of the future and the cove you nightly return to when you take your scheduled break from everything. And nightly you look, down the always present John R pavement that ends where you can no longer see, right at the Science Center and the traffic light on Kirby Street.

While the lonely and curious look down at you from their tall windowsills.

Hello Egypt.

Is it night there too? 

Or do you see my leftover Sun?