MoPo(etry)

In Which Akiva Can't Seem to Get Shake-the-speare in Him.

Subway Zombie
by Akiva

I am the king of this subway car
The sole commander of the grit and the tin.
Every dried piece of gum
Underneath every seat
Is mine for the having.
The graffitti praises me.
In my flickering flourescant dreams
I swing from bar to bar
Like a subterranean chimpanzee.
The breaks screech out my name
Or some derivation.

The stench of the rat race,
Their essence
It lingers.
I feel the sardines
Packed tight
Breifcase up against latte.
Gucci pressed against Armani.
Battle of the name brands
And only friction wins.

But that only makes me feel more free
Breaking all laws
Including gravity.
For I am alone
And there is no other way
I would want to be.