I’m crammed on a tram
Stuck between three or four
Bags on the floor
As the rain pours through
The left hand side door.
The mass of men
Behind me sway and lean
Pushing me nearer
To a woman reading
Closer magazine.
She eyes me suspiciously
And I sway continuously.
I smile a weak smile
In order to apologise
And with her disapproving eyes
She returns to her page.
A cacophony erupts,
A chorus of coughs,
Over my shoulder
As the chances increases
Of catching seasonal diseases.
People push on
And fight to get off
Some men mutter almost mute
“Won’t you all just f**k off?”
We’re packed in tight
And off to my right
Some kids has his ipod
On too damn loud
So all that the crowd
Can hear is a tinny
Rendition of something
Quite dancy
Being blasted into his ear.
We get to a stop
And there is a rush to
Disembark with
People shoving, pushing,
Bobbing, weaving
Ducking, slipping
To step into the dark.
I have some space for
Rest of the way
And then I approach my stop.
