Roadside Rendezvous

Two plastic sheets,
Shield the night sky,
From our gaze,
The stars are cloaked anyway
By the city's haze.
Those blue sheets,
Block out the streetlight's glare
And give some reprieve
From the stench-laden breeze.
The music trickling through,
Gaps in the boards
Is not your favourite melody
Is not a grand symphony
But a pulsing, grating tune
For tonight, it will do.