The last train is nerly due
the underground is closing soon
in the dark deserted station
resless in anticipation
a man rest in the shadows.
He’s resless eye leap and scrach
at all that they can touch or catch
hidden deep within his pocket
safe within his silent socket
he holds his colored crayon.
Now from the tunnels stoning whoom
the carrage rides to meet the groom
and opens wide and welcome doors
but he hesatates then withdraws
deeping in the shadows
And the train is gone suddenly
on wheels flicking silently
like a gently taping litaney
and he holds his crayon rosery
tighter in his hand
Now from his pocket he quickly flashes
the crayon on the wall he slashes
deep apon the advertising
a signle worded poem comprisiing
— four letters
and then his heart is laughing, screming, pounding
a poem across the tracks rebounding
shadowed by the exit light
his legs take their acending flight
to seak the breasted darkness and be suckled by the night.