a night at the station

sunday was a lovely night...a little cool but i could stomach it basking in the warm embers of music and friends...but as the embers died and night grew darker things changed...i walked into the station and looked at the big crackling board, forever shifting times and places...seeming random but knowingly in control...i realized that i had a while to wait, so i sat crosslegged by the wall across from metal seats filled to the brim with travelers, and watched the dark show put before me...it started with some shouting...one strange individual, for no reason that i could discern, began screaming at a fellow sitting before him...incessantly berating him, "c'mon mutherfucker! why don't you get up and fight me...you piece of shit get up and fight...fucking pussy get up and fight"...and on and on with the same remarks ad infinitum while the focus of his rage sat silent and still, looking up at, and right through the madman...after awhile the man rose, and instead of walking away decided to fight the madman...they danced around like two old and slow sparring partners, all the while the berater still berating, and the beratee still silent and clownishly mocking the madman...a few punches were thrown, but nothing serious, and then once again the fellow sat down...i thought maybe the incident was over, and i could go back to listening to the muzak pump 'the rising of the moon' through the cavernous hall...this was not the case...once again the yelling began and with even greater fury...the needle on the record was evidently stuck on keywords like "mutherfucker, cocksucker, shithead"...i decided to focus on the other side of the station where a couple was having what i thought was a fight...however, maybe it was simply foreplay, because the tone and volume were not at peak levels...they both had eastern european accents and the fellow did most of the talking, "you are nothing but a worthless piece of trash, you slut you would be nothing without me, i should beat the shit out of you in front of all these people you whore"...and she would reply in an equally strong accent, "fuck you, i don't need you, you don't even have the guts to beat me, you weak slimy shit, you aren't even a man"..."i'm not a man, let me hear you say that after i've beaten you to a bloody pulp you dirty whore"...well you get the idea...i was surrounded by anger...normally this might affect me more, but on that night i just stared at the endless tiled floors stretching onto the infinite tracks...and in the trance inducing atmosphere of the station i rose from that place, and left the dirt and the grime of the world of shadows behind...i thought back to the earlier bliss of the evening and remembered the minstrel's words..."we walked him to the station in the rain, we kissed him as we put him on the train, and we sang him a song of times long gone, though we knew that we'd be seeing him again"....