I look up on a tall building
and its wall of windows;

I look at the lights that are on
and the lights that are off;

I wonder about who is awake
and what they’re doing right now;

a thing about cities is just
how many people there are.

I wonder about the neighbors
on the twenty-seventh floor;
to me, they are just shadows
in adjacent windows.

I see a couple dancing
and a couple fighting;

I see dark windows
where I can’t see anything;

All these different lives
stacked on top of each other
on the corner of Folsom and 3rd
at about nine o’clock at night.