I've seen your tired souls
riding under the city
lost in the drowsiness
of morning calm commutes.
And when I've seen
all your lonely faces
reflected in glass
I think of Pound
and his metro station—
with faces like petals
on a black bough.
But this is shattered
during rush hour
when the subway
pulls into station
and push becomes shove
as white-gloved
subway push men
pack commuters into
waiting metal cars.
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My first two years in Korea, I had to ride the subway into work every morning.
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Jeffery this is a great poem! Subterranean rumblings of unrest - mankind and its rat- race.
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Thanks again for your kind comments, Myra. I appreciate them a lot.
The propensity for people to get into your personal space in Asia is discombobulating. Never been to Seoul but it sounds like a carbon copy of Tokyo. Nicely captured.