this stifling box of air
taking me home
takes too long
by far.
too much air
makes breathing hard and
the weight of
london above me
its foundations stretching hellwards
scratch my consciousness
as I rumble along.
this stifling box of air
taking me home
takes too long
by far.
too much air
makes breathing hard and
the weight of
london above me
its foundations stretching hellwards
scratch my consciousness
as I rumble along.
today
i smelled the Underground
smell as it used to smell
aged five
sooty and inviting
exciting
the way boarding a train should smell
when the domes of St Paul’s towered high
over the city
and the Shard was but
a jagged figment of thought
a rush of pigment on an artist’s impression
an altogether fresher
less jaded by the nine-to-five
eager to arrive
desperate to strive
London.
it got me thinking:
as blurs form like smog
not one day on and one day off
but gradual
lying and mystifying
and pulling all I know into question marks:
was I five, or was I five times that?
and where then lies the line
of cruel historian’s pen
between my London of today
and that of then?
but one smell told me:
the Underground marked that boundary
sooty and inviting,
exciting.
two stones meet upon a train
and in a million miles of track
will not share a word.
her rock face ashen
crestfallen
then his hand
first on her leg
then the neck
then the back of her head
teasing out a smile
as a rock turns to sand.
they'll be alright, I tell myself
as I alight.