onto a dusty painted concrete floor
young men with serious faces and laptops
under strings of christmas lights
black lipstick and canvas shoes
and screenplays blossoming in ragged spiral notebooks
pairs of gray-haired womensomeone laughing too loud, head thrown back
and the waitress with short bleached hair
playing percussion with a dishpan full of cups
dreams wrested from the dregs
paper napkin genius crumpled
on the empty tables
at closing time
