Out of the settling dusk It glides into the station A metal snake with screeching breath Disgorging a tumble of people from its warm belly
I step inside the beast Into air thick with a day’s activity, Rigid ribs of seats hold weary bodies All wrapped up in virtual worlds
A fetid tinge of alcohol, the rustle of a paper bag Waft through the carriage
Beyond the reflections of heads bent on phones Flickering images of night rush by Darkness punctuated by red full stops that leak from their edges And bright rectangles of light, Lined up like platoons, In the clatter of a faster train On its own straight and narrow gauge
The rhythmic clicking of machinery in action The beating heart of progress Slows to a reassuring hum And with a screech and the slight bump of inertia we arrive at a brightly lit station
And I am myself disgorged into the waiting arms of home.
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