Boulevardier

High Street at night throbs
even in your medium city

— it’s impossible to say where
all of this youth will end,

snaking from bar to bar,
wasting time on happiness,

the mistake you never made.
You gently trace the vein

of this street too often, late
and defeated. You know

where the road narrows
for a kiss, pulls back

at the last moment. You can’t
sleep here, or stay awake.