The train leaves the station at the same time,
with the same people on board;
it winds its way through the same tunnel
and roars like a distant thunder.
It must be a perfect day,
with no delays and no misses,
the passengers boarded their train
whenever it arrived at their stations.
When there’s a delay, resignation is a weapon,
for those with the light to see darkness.
They jumped into the cabin one by one,
searched for empty seats, sat down,
and dipped their frozen hands into their pockets.
Their hands rattled their goose-bumped thighs,
their bones knocked against one another;
at last, their mobile phones snapped open;
from the obsession of their rushing,
their anxiety, tenaciousness and fears
coloured their eyes with the seed of their hopes,
that the day would augur nicely with their souls.
I watched their faces strained with wrinkles,
labyrinthine lines, folds of worn-out skin and cobwebs,
forest of fallen flesh like leaves turned by the wind.
There was a hushed hurricane on their feet,
the warm and wet wind was on their hair,
and I was staring at the rump of the fowl;
the river moves in their faces with high tide.
No sign of the mountain rising in their hearts.
Here is a people recessed,
like an ocean forked inside the desert,
they smiled into their phones, made faces like children;
frowned with their clattered teeth strut out,
their arms crossed as though they believed in the air;
they bit their lips together, smiled, frowned,
yawned, shed tears, laughed and laughed,
watching the elevators and stairs glide on their bodies.
INSTANT NOODLES 