empty bottle

It seems so lonely on the metro
Going home to the place least lost
In the mechanical wake
Of that meantime miracle
Human contact
Warmth
And selfless intra connection.

The train trails a tail of hope
Like some sparking little comet
Draining my profusion ecstasy and froth
Like a rich drunkessa drains
The dregs of her grog.

Somewhere at the centre of this a rat-like creature

Poorly reflected in the scratched glass of the sliding doors
Wrapped in polythene
Like a microwave leftover
Drowning in fizzy sugar drink
And sweltered chokko plastic coating
Cakes the soul of a unique person.

It is as though the body were an electric womb
Or promethean test tube
Where the silent ghost of what we really are
Floats suspended in an impenetrable bubble
With a semi-osmotic capacity
Allowing free passage of reciprocal vitality
Whilst she quietly prevails
Against the onslaughts of lust
Ambition
Greed
And vanity
Directed at her by the angry child
Of a recidivistic demon
Banging out hot sparks of measurement
From a rusty oil drum
With a live oxyacetylene dragon.

Still this endless train of fire

Coursing through the tunnel at night
Rattles with the empty bottle
Of a broken soul
Leaving the dead and the lonely behind
Evaporating into the space so far away close
To a billion homes.

31.03.09.