The working day
It was dark I had been to a place I should not
have been, when I saw a river of men coming out
of the subway filling the street with silence
and decorum.
Daylight came, neon light shivered and died
this was not a time for frivolities and false promises.
at the end of the day, it was like watching a movie
running backwards, the river returned filling trains
with packed politeness.
They are going home to the mysterious suburbia
and the stress of family life in small rooms.
Some, however, take a later train go to bars drink
beer and sing Karaoke and for a few hours
Forget about the drudgery of tomorrow's office hours
A tiny screw in the wheel of commerce.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem