Day One Hundred and Fifty Six: 5am Beat

Late Taxi

Until around 5am
the drunken make haste
upstairs in flats and heels.
Taxi after taxi after taxi
coming and going,
steady as a metronome,
with stunning regularity.
One can even tell the time
through the bassy notes
of closing car doors,
akin to a clock’s second hand ticking,
breaking the sleep cycle
with gallons of alcoholic murmurs.

It’s the only sound,
in the dead of night,
that breaks the rhythmic ringing in my ears.
Inebriates disembarking and babbling
along to the chorus of a drunken song,
Some with infatuation
Some with indignation
All with unsteady gait.


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