Station(Poem)

Copper eyed man
at the ticket counter
gave some unflattering coins.

I sat on some utilitarian
Unpoetic bench with
business thoughts in grey matter
and basaltic tie around the neck.

Lovers quarrelling in the background
Not sure who’s preaching who.

A guy with candle legs
talked about some calculus stuff
with his nerd-guilt face friend.

One girl with black rose lips
was giving practised goodbyes
with her wooden palms.

Cigarette ashes on the floor.
People filled till the concrete shore.
While I am listening to the cinnamon song
which I played before.

—Drunken Platforms.


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