Monday, March 10, 2008

Sub "Way"

Toques and tams and turbans
headphones and hijabs
bob in broken rhythm
netherworld they stab

No sense of decorum
rush to get a seat
close your eyes or zone out
stare down at your feet

Opening door brings shock waves
in baggy knee length pants
blues the air with language
paranoiac rants

Homeward see a woman
begging on the stairs
one insists on giving
money smiles and prayers

Ancient forlorn female
doors close, left alone
"trains must keep on schedule",
say hearts cold as stone

See it as a skirmish
battle of the tube
seasoned cynics versus
naive small town rubes

Now here safely swaddled
snow our natural fence
cannot judge the people
who act from self defense

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