On Underground Virgins

Escalators. Escalators, for Christ's sake.
The tourists from a country
where moving steps are the flake
on an ice cream dream (apparently),

these tourists from some country
snap and smile, amazed.
This is the ice cream dream, apparently,
in which people spend their holidays,

snapping, smiling, amazed
by acned, groaning mechanisms.
People, spend some holiday
film in the museum!

Not on these acned, groaning mechanisms
that ferry to metal hell, as in
a film, this museum
of commuter corpses, scrambling

for the next ferry to metal hell, as in
where moving steps shift the flakes
of commuter corpses. Snap-snapping
escalators. Escalators, for Christ's sake.