Involuntary detox

This morning although
I tried to write
it was quite
impossible,
I was pressed up tight against
what I dare not say,
the underground rush
is a hell of a way to start
any day

anyway
I could not get to my pen,
( being penned in is a falsehood )
so I wrote with my eyes, graffiti
on the crowd that was crushing me

it’s strange the words one comes up with
when one doesn’t give a toss
I didn’t have room to swing a cat
and
I found the fuckin’ words to describe
that.

So no writing this morning
and to me
it’s like doing cold turkey
the shivers and shakes
the groans and the
moans from the passengers
fuck ’em.

I needed a fix and I needed it quick
so I picked my way through the tube very quick,
considering,
but I didn’t consider
fuk em again
those bastards stopped me from
reaching my pen.

I’m calmer now and
taking deep breaths, just
another day to add to my
list of little deaths
and
this is not
Venice.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.