Last train
Near the end of Line 9
A Wednesday night
Dark and grey and cold outside
Neon bright, pissy green
And sad underneath
Train’s almost empty
There’s this kid, white, not hungry
20 y.o. maybe
He’s having a tough time
Too many drinks he can’t handle
Too much drugs he can’t handle
He burps
Then heaves all over the car
And it keeps coming
Like a hiccup
Once he’s finally done
The kid falls asleep
Finally calm on his seat
I get off at the last station
Let him in there
At worst
Some guy will find him at the depot
Call Police
And he’ll spend the night in the tank
At best
He’ll wake up
Somewhere along Line 9
At 5 or 6 am
Going the other way

Some poor fuck
Will have to clean
The shit though

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Last train on Line 9
There’s this little girl
Maybe 3, 4 years-old
Sitting on her dad’s laps
He seems worried
Looking at his phone
At this late hour
The kid is obviously
Spending the night with Daddy Oh
And it wasn’t planned
She looks at him
And loves him
And says something
He looks at her
Holds her a bit tighter
Goes back to the screen
Hoping for something

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Single mother

Very late really
She comes into the train
Going East
With a 7 or 8 y.o.
She looks ok
Shiny eyes, a bit wobbly but
Not mean
The kid too looks ok, hot
Red cheeks, tired
Tagging along
Bums, junkies, winos
Grey after work sad folks
Paris’ dirty underwear
In plain sight
I can’t help but think
What in hell is this kid doing
On Line 9 this late
I hope it’s good news

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