One Time

Wasting some time in the evening
So as not to return back too early
I am walking away from the station
Crossing the bridge that runs over the water
Struck by the unhuman beauty
Of the lights and the shadowy objects
On and about the Thames river.
There is the symbol of Britain and democracy,
Big Ben. There a spectral object moves on the water.
There a tall modern building sodium lit
Assumes strange, soft and beautiful forms.
The cars, with orange red and yellow lights
Move along the side behind the chains of white ones
Regular, but occasionally broken
Running by the side of the dark reflecting flow.
In my ears the noise of motorcars
No longer oppressive, as I am in the city.
A pair of lovers walk past arm in arm
Lines from a poem recur in my head,
Prufrock on mermaids and how they will not sing to me.
I have been thinking of that for the past week.
A solitary girl stands by a bus stop
I would like to take her in my arms
And kiss her passionately on the lips.
I wonder how can society stick together
Happily and with so few upheavals
If we all must restrain our desires such as this?
I am passing over the river;
I stop and I stare at the lights.
People may think I’m eccentric;
There are not many people about.
It is February the second nineteen sixty six.
It is ten o’clock in the evening, the clock begins to strike
I am standing enjoying the moment
I have an impression of decadence
And a powerful sense of being somewhere in history
More lovers, or perhaps they’re not lovers
Just some bloke with his pick up maybe.
As I pass them my eyes face the ground.
I am troubled with sexual frustration.
Out of the darkness two red eyes watch me owl like.
If I come in the day I will find out what that is.

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