We mind the gap
counting the time,
cursing the minutes,
tutting the line.
A push too far,
you’re over the line.
A shove too far,
you’re on the lines.
The air is warm
and full of soot.
When the train pulls in
the swarm is afoot.
Doors are open,
the shuffle begins.
Nudge and push,
we must get in.
The doors slide shut,
sardines are in.
Head in book,
the sweat begins.