Wires crackling
Steel wheels clattering
rail tracks trembling
trams
latte clutching
ipod touching
mx reading
trams
Shoulders touching
handbag clutching
armpits, bad breath
trams
junkies yelling
old men smelling
Big issues selling
trams
fashionable young punks
dishevelled old drunks
mums and babies and prams
black corporate suits
high heel boots
strong perfume and bruts
trams
TRAMS #2
Grey dusk shrowds the urban jungle
a throng of corporate cockroaches swarm
wriggling writhing, pushing
each with a purpose of their own
Trams come clattering, wires splattering
Rattling down the track of old collins
Constant bustle, a sea of faces peering back, or out the window
As day turns to night in the urban jungle
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