Underground train (U Bahn) Poems
Sunny entry into U Bahn
Coming in
Hammering into me
The voice nails
From German Vienna wails
Falsetto false it seems to me
Who wants a quieter dreamtime
I wish the stations by
With all the 'gasses.
The tape calls out the links
Time travelling today being a station ahead
Panic spreads
Opposite where I glance, a woman
I am locked to her enormous upper teeth
Schwedenplatz will save me soon
A short jostle,
A dodge of commuter missiles
On to the red line then
Where at this hour
The smarter UN bound people swarm
Good make up, expensive smells
Mixed with kids in imitation designer gear
And kids less genuine in their authentic designer gear
Both sets sneer
I am part of this as I write on my seat
In the carriage at this precise time
I record perversely to avoid
A bag now hits me.
Sixth time it taps me on my head
Schwedenplatz is here at last.
The U Bahn revisit, I must
In my morning and evening rust
What else deserves better to be cussed
The smells get worse
The garlic curse
The sunken eyes straight from a hearse
The rabied calls on plastic phones
The busy stinking worker drones
The dog bagged Vienna crones
The babies smothered in wheeled tombs
The fat women with caves for wombs
The constant stench of armpit fumes
Sitting across is a cross-eyed midget
Picking his nose with a deformed digit
And a man in a suit plays with a widget
The mentally sick guy doth appear
Teeth like shit with acute pyorrhea
Pants stained with old diarrhea
The young brat swings round a pole
Parent brain dead as a whole
Just enough energy to take him to school
Am I the freak sat here reading?
Am I the haemorrhage that is bleeding
Am I the one that one that’s really needing?
To be fair- not so many people
Cram
It was a cram train, a mind drain, a pain
Sardine’d in a small tin then, with my softer body parts juxtaposed
Against three handbags with various deadliness of metallic corner
A schoolboy’s cap brim (which I am sure had a razor blade embedded)
Two men who last washed on August the ninth, 2005
And someone wearing home made perfume mainly concocted from raspberry and garlic.
At the next station even more tried to get on, and the shoal twisted
I was wounded in the left testicle this time
The right one had had no feeling since Praterstern
One old lady was submerged and I doubt would ever be seen again
Two managed to enter our door, a tall thin man, who wedged instantly but
Who lifted up his arms to rake his armpit under my nose
And a short woman who instantly burrowed into the mass
The train driver a jerk, jerked us a couple of times
Maybe to shake-pack us in more
I was finished
I pressed the action button and my coat ripped opened revealing
Pneumatic battering rams of molybdenum steel
I pummelled the nearest away. I had my space.
Although no one noticed what I had done,
Apparently five people died in the exercise.
Oh for this degree of freedom
U Bahn rave again
poem
It’s the same as it was and will be for ever
The constant stream of trains and us
Tomb riders all we cram together
International germs and armpit fuzz
Garlic fumes from bodies wreaking
Sneezes wheezes coughing fits
Handy phone ring tones loud competing
Big lips wrapped round junk food bits
Strange guttural languages shrieking
Loose children swinging round and round poles
Man with a bicycle oil stains leaking
Girl with earlobe full of holes
Beggar shuffling bleating help me
Man with accordion squeaking a tune
A filthy corner tramp sleeping soundly
From early morning to the afternoon
A can rolls as the carriage sways now
Trailing drops of sugar drink the floor
Woman gets on with a dog in a basket
Sits down next to woman dressed like a whore
The driver has fun accelerating
Breaks hard to cause maximum strife
People clutch at straps and each other
Husband looks for the safety of his new wife
I try to get out but the way is blocked
By the army of the blind wanting in
I struggle hard against the human tide
My mind committing mass murder sin
Underground
I am on the underground.
A cave for me
Orange and blue contrast from the shit psychology
Of the designer, his testimony
Crammed in with no wish to shoal,
A blackening hole
Tall bottle blonde
schoolgirl with tatty bag on back that bites into my chest
As she bad-tooth mouths into her plastic haven with zest
Glancing even in the hell crush most mouths are doing the same
There are three loud conversations to the carriage a rabid refrain
Three tenors competing, may be apt to Vienna
And nothing rhymes with that (except Sienna)
Back to the nearby blonde
Her short green tipped zit friend looks and smiles from below
Squirming at her mates success pseudo mating halo
Double-barrelled snot guns are firing off, a green yoyo display
The rustle of tissues should be heard but they are too soft when thrown away
I see them dropped though the germs scuttle into corners with no after care
Smells now of cheap scent and garlic mingled with the unwashed armpit hair
Crutches and earwax mingle and into the consciousness comes a stronger un-owned fart
Invading gas, the cherry on top of the mouldy human tart
After all it is post weekend, post stuffing and post pork
The last straw needed to complete my misery, turn up the torque
The blonde moves raking me with the strap on her bag so, there is more
The train stops, there is a rush for the bag open door.
There is a maniacal fuss
A seething wafting exodus
I am left almost alone but there is one other
A beggar released from the crush, target whines at me his brother
Bitter, bitter and holds out a filthy hand demanding gold
He needs a new pair of Nikes obviously since his must be at least 2 weeks old
