we sit, the back pockets of our jeans flattening the even grass blades, freshly cut this morning
looking out at the city
the buildings, reaching to touch the blackened sky, no stars to make us smile
the lights, illuminating the world before us as far as we can see
the people buzzing about, deciding to stay awake, instead of retiring to their quiet homes
and we think
what will come next, when we finally tire out the world?