Third rail

Perverse,
that it doesn’t show
its life in other
forms,
just a vague grey
strip of metal,
and the quiet sense it
might be throbbing
slightly if you
got close enough.
With the use of
recording equipment,
set correctly,
you’d probably hear a nation of
tiny cries, each one to
the value of point-one-milliamps
all belonging to an army
of fireflies capable of mobilizing
at the speed of light
on first contact..

with the urine of the pissed
guy at Kentish Town,
his sand-coloured stream
issuing from his
live busbar
to the backing track of
a 30 kilowatt roar.