We’ve fled the city with its memories
Of breaths and names, and instead left behind
Our fickle footsteps lost to every breeze
And found again beneath the weight of mind.
I teeter on a slippy edge of time
As teenage chatter drowns the car I’m in
In laughter that must constitute a crime
When fused with snores designed to waken Jinn.
There is no thinking I could ever do
While in this otherwise efficient train,
No headphones block the sounds I play unto
My mind which never falters to retain
The garbage that once heard stays on repeat
Until I’ve gotten off this blasted seat.