The Man Inside

~s.k

At some dendritic end in the mesh of roads
A signal turns red,
The heart of the city stills for a moment,
Scores of tail-lights glare to a stop.
A city where people
Commute in raving urgency
Still ensure that they make love slowly.

The new lover of the night-time waitress
Lets her moan escape into the neighbour's window;
A pack-of-ten he bought
Because he wanted it never to end.
They copulated that day
Agglutinatively like their tongues
Till their bodies strung incoherently.

The fat waitress in post-coital glory
Picked up her bag,
Chin-up marched past appalled neighbours
Taking herself home on a newly acquired old scooter,
Faded dirty pink with one mirror missing.

It did not matter what they said
She would never see them again.
But for one day after so long
She got laid.

The man inside was happy.