(20 minute poetry)

Yellow lines
stand behind them
mind the tube train

over and over again
the parrot squawks

it talks of dangers
electrocution
warns of imminent
prosecution

don't feed the birds
are words just
words to me

keep clear
let passengers by

why don't they try
to be
anything other than
the
same old
me, me, me?

pass me an anorak
there are
rainbows
set in the track

and a *** of gold
down at Old street.

A blonde who's seen
better days
plays harmonica

it's stairways

we fall
or we rise
the sight of poverty
in many eyes

and the tube trundles on
the parrot longs for greenery
I long for some scenery other
than this.

and a carousel ride
around which I could
hide
these thoughts

fellow passengers look blank
they've got the tube to thank
for that.

bewildered in a wilderness
looking for union or
congress

a meeting of minds.