Some days feel like late nights at a ramen joint off the subway.

Neon lights cut through the rain, telling you it's there.

It’s near closing and you’re the last customer.

You find the one seat without leftover noodles or crumbs caked on, in a table for two.

You yank off your tie and put it in your briefcase, plopping it on the floor

ramen scolds your mouth, healing you from the cool drizzle.

You slurp it down, splattering liquid all over your button down shirt

They play R&B tracks at a low volume on the speakers.

You open your laptop and see a pile of forms to fill out from work.

Flustered, You just close the laptop cause it’s not doing you any good.

You pat your pants out of habit and space out.

Analyze some random ebay painting on the walls like it’s one of those art dissections at a museum

Maybe pretend to argue with someone

until the server tells you that you gotta leave.

Finally, you step out, and get a mist of drizzle,

Shivering your way back home.