(20 minute poetry)

He sits opposite
using those words
swear words
the words that dare you to say
keep ths **** outa my way

I think he's angry or
he could be quite mad
but
the words that he's using
are definitely bad

blasphemy,
he's taking the name of my God
and firing it into me
he
should be more careful
or
he'll get an earful
from me.

Tubes are asylums
shocks to the brain
passengers are inmates
we all look the same.

Just an early morning run again
with
the ****** too late for the night shift
the pick up artists with gamblers eyes
It doesn't surprise me that people are mad
you'd go mad too doing what these people do

I stay sane by pretending this ain't no train but a time machine in an old fashioned dream full of Miss Monroe's and each journey flows like the river.

Then it ends as it began
an escalator jammed
a thousand step to climb,
descend
and that depends on if
you're coming or going.

I'm usually going
I seldom come back.