In the emptiness of the city
The four of them show
Without much fascination
Of the worldly show

Do they ever talk?
Do they ever eat?
Is it just a charade
Sophisticated, neat?

Impeccable citizens with-
Polished nails and shoes
Fire lips, blood-red dress
Starched fedoras, tired schmooze

What's the time now?
Are they late for the night?
Is it colder at home
Do they evade the fight?

It is safer here, true,
Far from reality's check
No strings attached to
Their fragile necks

They finish their cups,
Glasses, and leave
Slow, shambling steps
End their reprieve.

***

*Based on a Poets Pub prompt.