drunkenly stumbling
down corridors,
slamming into knees
and train doors.

all with earbuds in—
disgusted looks on their face
as i grab the pole,
and move with haste!

i drop to a seat,
covered in dust
in the last car,
as the cables rust.

no light to be seen,
buried underground—
the traveler on the F train,
when clocks don’t make a sound.