SW4 — Anekdoten

the lights have all turned red on holloway road a pale vision of inertia in cold halogen glow

the last clapham bound train is waiting to leave but the engine-driver's fallen asleep at the wheel

when i picked up the phone my hopes were put on hold the outgoing wires were humming my heart was growing cold

no rattling of keys no break before the dawn i still wait for my relief what's taking him so long?