Inner city rails

Long bars through neighborhoods
suburbs, districts and no man's land lost.
Steel rods all the way across the megalopolis
over bridges, through tunnels and under ground.
The rumbling shaking screeching all the way to dumbfound
Dark catacombs and long deep terraces
The train like a snake slides through ferociously.

The dusty smoky air moves across platforms with the ashes
Rush hour thick with faces worn by overwork and rashes
waiting for the shaky screechy gritty
The rails so lifeless carry this human worm through the compost that is this city

The lights and draughts that attack the weary commuter
find every nook and cranny of his core
Shadows flicker and vagabonds bicker as the crowds line up to board
The overloaded squabble as they all throw themselves at the entry doors
not letting the desperate people exit before

Yes the inner city rails, always a light at the end of the tunnel
Heaven is mixed thoroughly with hell and then funneled
Shacks and stalls and wrecks sell it all on oil stained pathways
And all slip and some pickpocket and others rub up in the train crowded thick
So just go to the gangway to buy your ticket.