Rat Racer

Sometimes the gap is too wide to mind:

we are on the platform,

while others’ lives shoot past.

We wait for our train to arrive,

so fixed on our destination

that we forget our fellow travellers.

When it comes, we jostle and shove:

the best seat, any seat, remains

the jealous-guarded prize.

We look down, into the screens:

our route displayed between pings

and bells of jokes and reminders.

Outside the window the cranes fly past,

though they stand between skyscraping

potential infernos or sleek office suites.

We spill out, each one of us, separate and together.