Underground lines : Day +340

Hello again. I invented a new pastime today designed for tube journeys. For every person that sits opposite you, write a quick poem, not a twee limerick. But an honest, stream-of-consciousnees reaction to that person that you will probably never see again. Just a reflection on two lives momentarily crossing. Don’t try to be clever or force anything, just let it flow out. I include my efforts for today. I believe they have the veneer of respectable poetic lyricism but also know they are basically crap and I don’t really know what they mean. However I found it intriguing what emerged. Please guestbook in your creations:) Till the next time, follow your bliss. milt 🙂

Euston-Oxford Circus: Elderly Gentleman with Hat (70+)

So this is life, so coloured/so dull.
Into hollow’d meaning my senses lull,

Over? Is it now?
Only the clucking bell,
and menac’d sea can tell.

Oxford Circus- Stuck Train: Gay Fashion Student (22ish) and Female Friend.

Plaid. Fancy.
Though he ekes a familiar fag-hag smile we must ask,

Does gay & happy make a happy gay?
Lay swatch over swatch and compare to your father’s twisted disapproval,
Now with matching bald head glistening in desperate ease.
Make your dress, my friend. I wish you well.

Marble Arch to Notting Hill gate: Stern Japanese Lady (38ish)-

Ice.
A billion year curse places us in this knotted web.
I fold like Origami.
You continue to stare, unmoved.

Notting Hill Gate-Shepherd’s Bush:

Giggly Arabic Teenage girl gossiping inanely with her taller, thinner friend

Izzit. Innit.
Innit. Izzit.
Izzit? Innit?
Izzit? –

No.

It is Not.

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