Life in the fast lane
Going to work on the tube.
Living in the city is like,
Not living.
Bodies beaten and blown,
As if by a blizzard,
Swerve, stumble and slam against each other.
Any contact is better than none!
And here loneliness pales against the indifference,
Of being.
Existing.
Living.
So, secretly I brush against you,
As if to ascertain whether yet,
I
Am
Alive.
Such is Life in the fast lane.