Scattered groups of cosmopolites
rove and immerse themselves
in the autumn nightlife
of Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
At Union Pool, a sign
above the bar flashes "BEWARE"
in bright red neon letters.
The roaring din of the
patio acts as a pool of
white noise that allows patrons
to temporarily soothe their woes.
Meanwhile, a yellow full moon
casts an indifferent gaze
upon them. Time moves forward
like a boulder rolling down
a hill, stopping for no one.
That fact becomes most apparent
when the bartenders announce
the last call and the groups
disperse to their domiciles.
Such moments create the bonds
that connect them to their peers.
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