Faces tired and gaunt,
Tired of work, of the commute,
Tired to share one another’s pain.
The bus rattled on
Weaving through streets.
Heads resting on seats.
Escalators in shopping centres;
Champagne cocktails, mini skirts,
Nostalgic city of tango;
A drunk lies in disturbed slumber,
‘Cartoneros’ briefly assert their claim,
Rifling through rubbish,
Opposite the Sheraton hotel.
Jewels and chandeliers hanging in shop windows;
Everything is for sale.
Tired shoulders hunched forward,
Soon to join the nodding heads,
Fighting fatigue on buses.
Flower bouquets in the little green stall,
A carnation to take home;
Time to leave the neon sprawl;
Time to find refuge from the city light.
‘Chicas adios’, ‘adios’ and goodnight.