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Commuters - Feeding the Habit

By CliffBowes

17 February 2007

Many years ago I worked in Central London and travelled in by train each day. Thank goodness those days are long gone.

This sleeping beast, the city, stirs

            And feels a hunger in its veins.
            It wakes - it trembles - awaiting its fix
            Of intravenous human meat.

            They comes in libation by steel railed veins,
            Enclosed in Railtrack's hypo-tubes.
            Small men, big men, round office girls
            Reading the news, Woman's Own, Elle
            And others that arrive in plain brown paper.

            Some sit, sans books, they look around;
            Wiping the window of condensation.
            One smiles as he re-lives last night,
            One watches the girl from Purley,
            Waiting for her to re-cross her legs,
            Cleaning his specs for the umpteenth time.

            At Battersea Park the Purley girlie
            Finally changes the cross of her legs,
            Rewarding her watcher with glimpses of thigh,
            Enough to last him one whole day, or
            At least 'till he reaches the typing pool
            On some pretext or other.

            While the man from Plumpton gently snores,
            The office junior deafens himself
            To heavy rock, in be-Walkman'd ears.
            The beat alone drifts through to his neighbour,
            An annoying boom-tish-tish-boom-tish.

            "Victoria - Victoria - this is Victoria."
            The half-awake beast accepts the oblation,
            Swelling, as the plunger empties the contents
            Of the hypo-train in its corporate body.
            Polyphemus fed for one more day.

Reviews

Great peom
Written by vdubber (5 comments posted) 17th February 2007

I love this poem, having spent many years commuting on buses and trains, it really sums up the feeling of being alone in a crowd, seeing familiar faces that you never speak to, that despite familiarity, remain complete strangers. The phrase 'awaiting its fix of intravenous human meat' is great, really reflects the undercurrent of seedyness (is that a word?) that you get in most big cities. Also the theme of feeding the corporate machine is very good if not a little depressing. Great Poem

Matt

Written by Phil (6713 comments posted) 17th February 2007

Well worked metaphor. I have to confess, I have no experience of this kind of existence - it sounds depressing.

Phil.

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 17th February 2007

I'm a long-time commuter too, and I used to feel as though the trains were gobbling me up and spitting me out.

I thought this poem worked very well, but I was not crazy about the phrase 'be-Walkman'd ears;' it seemed clumsy in view of the rest of the poem which read so fluidly. 'Boom tish-tish-boom-tish' for that tinny sound of someone's over-loud Walkman is just perfect.

Written by Marybarry (237 comments posted) 17th February 2007

I liked it Cliff.
You summed it up and that very expertly.
Marybarry

Written by Fledermaus (3281 comments posted) 17th February 2007

Very nice. Only the font is too small. The metaphors are very smart and I think many of us can relate to this. It always makes me wonder what went wrong, when I ssee comuters going both ways. If they would move to eachothers' houses they wouldn't have to waste hours in the train.

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