End of day at South Ealing tube

In dusked distortion I tarry
night chill wrapped about my head
a cold compress for tickling migraine.
I let the through flow of trains
hold my unravelling knots
trundle westward drear detritus
to stay sticky insanity's
encroaching domination.

Then, my thirst slaked for stillness
in numbing mindlessness
the parallel rattling of iron
finally drives me spare
and scuttling to end my day.