She stares with her mouth open, holding a Whole Foods bag.
His magic amazes her.
Even Times Square Elmos rest at night:
They sit on red metal chairs, finger their phones.
The sign says “I want you” and Uncle Sam stares out at me.
Door is surrounded: thick metal guardrails.
He yawns out his halal stand –
loses a sale.
Even the Sanctuary Hotel has no lights.
Only his computer screen, as he types into the night.