across the road in scavenged boots and hat
past slanting signs, rusting cars and that
to a grounded train in an overgrown station
a mouldy notice with old information
if you see something that doesn’t look right
which you do when you light your fire each night
to toast your toes and roast your rat
and fight to keep yourself intact
while nature yawns and slowly rises
tired of the lies and compromises
finally ready to close the doors
and commute you like the dinosaurs