Station (Poem)

Image by AvocetGEO from Pixabay

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

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

Lovers quarreling in the background
not sure who’s preaching who.

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

One girl with black rose lips
was giving practiced 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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