there’s something very special
about sitting still
in the black
in the tunnel on the train
a kid paces through the cars
the lights in the door shake
and a feather dances
in the corridor
a man is speaking
to his friend on the phone
he is drunk
but very tranquil
he left the club because even though it was some chicks birthday
it was too boring
and he fell asleep
and a part of me wants to sit in this moment forever
as he slurs onward
in far too many words
complaining that we’re still not moving
like music
oh **** we’re moving
and that guy is gone
and i think i might be drunk too