Friday, 30 September 2011

Metro Express

It screams at you and nothing is said, the metro express passes wild eyes and misery blistered, busted, bewildering crowds hustling, begging for their uncertain lives
unkempt streets of loan sharking, busy stiletto bees and pawn shop down and outs

nothing is said in winter coats as the train passes snippets and fragments of community
technicolor oil skins, pallet constructions and a theatre of doom flashing past commuters
white prayer flags of diapers greet you and no Dalai Lama to consecrate their desperate pleas

thriving churches, tuna tin queues at social services and thundering promises of Vaseline shiny
politicians does not change the faces of children, they look out of broken windows and see the train passing to the suburbs
nothing is said and bonds of cars, houses and the boat at home keep the travelers duct and silent

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