Only Coffee's Cold

 
How sparse my bloodshot morning send becomes,  
Forsaken hope entombed in subway tile.  
Bent sailor dreams stare out with oatmeal eyes,  
And garbage bandits, slow, steal hobo drunks.  
 
These belfry bats flee, twist and snapping sun  
Where resting, rakish, flares unbidden light.  
How Cream and traffic spice cups’ brackish life,  
The Mermaid queen spill, howls of seasoned witch.  
 
They, never letting-off at stopping pause,  
The buses ache and pass without regret;  
Dark interlopers, graft our would be plans,  
Yet sense your heart beat time in absent love,  
 
The angled dawn reveals a tempered street,  
Your missing breathless rush, dead coffee chill.