An empty aquarium
sitting in the parking lot
of the muffler and brake shop
on the corner.
A biker, one leg of his jeans
rolled up, glides through traffic.
A dozen roses bloom
inside the plastic bag
sticking out of his backpack.
The sun sets over the city,
strikes both the hot dog
factory and the mirrored skyscrapers
the same,
sends out long shadows
across the road.
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