Metro Perspective

I like how people walk in
Mostly in twos,
Making their own Arks
To subvert singledom
For the duration of one ride.

Opposite me, a couple.
Much in love.
With each other;
Or the notion
Of love
And how to behave
While in it.

Touching,
Smiling,
Staring.
A prototype,
Regenerated
At every seat corner.

If they could see a little further
Than their hands and lips and eyes,
Sloping shoulders and warm arms,
Stray hair and eyelashes shed,
They'd see their future selves
Spread on the same seats.

The bride burdened
By her jangly jewels,
The cluttered sari,
The weight
Of the blood red streak
Running through her hair.

Or, the apathetic mum,
Happy
With her fifteen minutes
Of zen,
Letting her kids
Transform the coach
Into a bedroom,
Jungle gym,
Potty.

The bored,
Small time executive,
Peering intently
Into his neighbour's
Book/magazine/ newspaper/ file.
Anything that lies outside
His pitiful,
Everyday life.

The slightly sad
Teacher type,
Hiding behind
A book,
Behind earplugs,
Behind diffidence.
Seeing
Her past selves
Holding hands,
Not knowing what
Distance
Space
Individuality
Choice
Will come to mean.