I ride the latebound train tonight
alone in my car but for shadows
slouching down in far corners
Silence 'cept murmurs in cadence
from rails and wheels discussing
bits of Sartre's dangerous dreams
Each lonely stop welcomed in turn
by doors flung suddenly wide as if
to startle trash on dark platforms
In this quick sharp hiss a deep sigh
the train speaks from boredom with
hustle and bustle and hurry to wait
Tension mounts thin rising echoes
of ticks for tock on the stopwatch
culling wisdom's last second down
Abrupt angry doors click closed
hissing disdain at worlds outside
so uncaring of schedules and time
Lurch off in this darkness again
for more swift rattletrap chatter
'tween wheels and rails and ties
Squabbling on like hens peck choice
in shadows cast by tomorrow while
time measures Siddhartha's resolve
Be spendthrift of minutes and miles
in pressing on toward faraway stops
for I am unready to step into night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem