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.

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