The night is an obnoxious 87 degrees.
My fan spins on its lowest setting inside my window.
Other windows are open down the alley.
A fuzzy guitar melody streams out of one of them,
it’s out of place.
A man encourages and then congratulates his shitting dog.
A woman’s shriek echoes playfully from the outdoor pool.
The smell of fresh cigarette smoke filters through my fan.
Must be Shitting-dog’s owner’s.
A train’s whistle bellows off in the distance.
These are the cacophonies of the city.
Their presence thrills me as it proves I’m not alone out here.