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Night Caller

Night Caller by Lucy Pogson Award Winner-Simon Elvin Young Poets of the Year , Young poets on the Underground ' Rain rains at half one in the morning and the take-away stays open. My window is puddles on pavements shimmering in street-lamp light. In my hand the phone talks on; rain taps glass, and running water runs to the ground. Someone skids and screams their brakes a block away. A silent film plays in the take-away across the street. The traffic sounds like wind moving round houses, and distant club-beats mud the air and heave the city high. The phone still speaks, the windy traffic blows, The window runs. He talks like rain rains. I listen like the take-away stays open.'

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