You get used
To living
Past midnight
Talking in places
You aren't supposed
To be,
With people you might
Wanna
Forget.

I'm at
Odds
With reality.

I'm sitting there
On the highway
Drinking coffee
Til two am,
High,
With people
I just met,
Twenty years ago.

The rain is
Hitting the big
Plexiglass
Smudged
Window I'm looking
Out,
At the tracers
Of lights
Barrelling down
The Number 1.

But,
That world
Doesn't exist
Anymore.

Likely most of
Those people,
Are dead.