i exist [as the definition of nonexistence]

what does the city sound like?

a train,
covered in graffiti and dust,
blares it's horn at 3am,
and I awake to a cacophony of dogs.
cars honking, tires skidding–
angry shouts, laughter,
Kenny Chesney from every truck.
Children running, shouting
(a myriad of pirates and princesses and ninjas)
the sound of music lulls me into
a coffehouse:
espresso machine hissing,
slam poetry,
cards being shuffled.
Church hymns,
broken grasps from restroom stalls,
fists connecting with walls and
fires crackling to life.
car crash sounds and
wedding bells.
the endless cycle of the city is a symphon