Long subway unpeopled
apart from the occasional drugged or drunken occupant
of a cardboard bedroom.
I walk under its dimmed sodium sky
from one night excluded end
to the other night recommencing end
stride invading this underpass concrete world
my footsteps giving birth to echoes
that ricochet off cavernous graffiti sprayed walls.
Eventually rejoining the night I find rain has joined in to prepare a wet welcome
for my emergence that I don't want to accept.
My watch says no rush, my feet agree
my mind makes up the ridiculous game
of dream-seeing the ghost of who I was fifteen minutes ago
' who the fuck are you looking at ? the imagined me is stupidly made to say
I don't know my real mouth replies
but we can't go on meeting like this, can we?
Laughing to myself making the correction that
perhaps we will one day
when turning back is not an option.