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What happens when the city sleeps but poetry beckons you closer? How do you rest when all that can be heard is the clicking of a pen and the spilling of ink on blank papers. You see, this is the golden hour for poetry. These are the hours that thoughts and imagination run wild. These are the hours we wait for after the clock stops and the work day ends. So my loves, let your pens run rampant like wolves under a full fool moon. Cafe Nocturna waits for you. I've prepped the stage, I've dimmed the lights and you're up next!! Call in and spill ur ink: 646-200-0568