It is fall now
fall again
and
again

A
Neon Midnight lights my
way

Every pore
smells like tobacco
Something i've quit
long ago
But cannot get away from.

I come outside to breathe
to see past
smoke stack
tv clouds
Hanging in the air
A poorly timed sentence

This is not my stoop
I am taking the place
of a bum
a wanderer of sorts watching
Detroit transportation
fly past
empty
bus stops.

Trash rolls down
woodward ave...
fall has started out
much of the same