Last Train

I am the pulse of this evening city
indicated in red.

I read like a cipher: destination DN.
I brighten as i leave

connecting cities and people
who mean nothing to me.

I am the last commuter after midnight
masturbating in an empty brake’
amidst the stench of damaged vegetables
and accidental fish.

I am the oscillating fan en-caged in black
someone switches me on
I do not respond.

I am the lone signal
with one eye wounded.

I am the last train after mid-night
always indicated, i seldom arrive.

I am the final passenger
wrapped up in a shawl

blurt your finger at me
And I fall.


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