you step out for a smoke onto the
balcony
the night is cool edging towards
chilly
the smoke rises languidly
uncoiling
a couple walk back after a day of
toiling
their shadows shrink and stretch
out again
clinging to them like morbid
stains
as they pass under the
streetlights desolate
from his shoulder dangles a muddy
spade
while she carries a bundle at her
waist
and the empty tiffin box from
which they ate
the dogs bark to the faraway echo
of a staff on the tar
crickets chirp up a backdrop for
the screeching car
bats flutter in the rustling
coconut leaves
but i hear nothing, tonight i’m
deaf to these
for i sit turned away from the
window
tired eyes fixed the spoon moving
slow
deaf to the world for i’m weighed
down
by too large black heavy much and
so the only sound
i hear above the radio is me
munching my food
eating out of boxes alone at the
table
and the radio plays the daily
staple
soon you’ll go back in to your tv
or a friend
and our little tryst that i
didn’t even know of will end
the only consolation is that
maybe before you’re gone
you’ll watch me eat my dinner,
out of boxes, alone
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