Ruussshhhh

The scene in the Subway

Crowded...my thoughts

     This place

People straining to see around heads. 

     The air between their shapes 

ls filled with breathless s***s and 

      I don't give a f***s

Don't speak...booze-n-body

    Odor spill 

from shouted words and raspy coughs

    They drip, like honey, and tightly 

Cling to the stench

    Of yesterday's stale cigarettes 

Trains clumsily boarded. 

    Doors shut 

Bodies touching packed in close 

    Noise fades.

 Silence lost to echoes on the rail

    Monotonous beats

 Marking time to the eternal 9 to 5

     

Standing...pole swaying

     Eyes scanning 

searching for freedom past

     Troubled thoughts...

And this claustrophobic 

     Cattle car. My brain chants

Clickety clack clickety clack...

     Clack... Clack.

Lurching... Stopping. Falling

      Into an overcoat, itchy.

A body wrapped in dust

      Scented wool. Missteps,

Faltering, grumbling - hands

      Press against the rush

Scurrying off one by one

A single unit of many parts

      Disconnected

Scattered amongst the day

      Autopilot. Each hour into

The next. No detour no delay

      The clock strikes. Shoes

Scuffle reconnecting dots

      Crowded again 

this place My thoughts.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

It’s a long while since I commuted into London. You reminded me here in detail of all that was once part of the daily grind. No one ever spoke. I closed my eyes and it all came flooding back. Autopilot, yes, I can remember being switched on. First of yours I have read. Pleased to have stopped by.

Chris

[LynGeist]

Why thank you for stopping by. :) I've recently returned after a long hiatus. I look back at my older stuff and am intrigued by the changes time inserts into my writing. Rhythm and cadence seem to have stuck by topics have changed.

I suppose commuting into London is not much different than commuting in New York. Human nature at its core is similar everywhere. If there is an exception to that, I have not heard of it.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Reminds me of the NY subway. All the different people packed in like sardines...unintentionally touching each other...yet staying in their own worlds...the stale odor of lack of communication...
are we all like cows herded into stalls on rails? Maybe.
fascinating poem...very raw and honest....and you had me there jammed in with the rest.
j.

[LynGeist]

Yes! That is exactly what I had in mind. No rhyme or reason to why I wrote it,, especially since I've never actually been on a NY subway. It just popped into my head from a picture in an ad I scrolled past.

I love your review. Especially your last sentence lol. Thank you.

I was here often 11 years ago. Can't believe it was that long ago. I had gotten away from writing for a bit. I'm glad to be back