The Tube

People are spaces

in crowded places

stuck together in silence.

 

Defiant against forced communion

they suck in shared air

maintaining their

millimetre

of

separateness.

 

Wires hang from

a boy’s ears,

 

a girl peers

into a hand held screen.

 

A woman’s tears

slide slowly down

channels in her cheeks

as a silent scream leaks

from her space.

 

The man in a pinstripe suit

reads The Telegraph.

 

Shared air stagnates

when words don’t vibrate

our worlds through it.


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