Liverpool Street Station

Friday night 6pm
in the surging heaving mass
of Liverpool Street’s main concourse.
Milling crowds from underground lines
entangle with those from
British Rail lines on the other side.
Individuals slide through
this impasse on their own
singular trails from
one side to the other.

Returning to this megalopolis
after a long absence I am meeting
a friend at the information counter.
Passing through this concourse
to and from work for years
he is unconcerned.
My eyes and ears
are overpowered in this
densely packed humanity.

The counter stretches to
unexpected lengths before me
with no sign of him.
On our mobile phones
we find we are both
at the counter and talk
each other past sections
of its noticeboards.

At last we are at
the same place.
We turn slowly around
to find ourselves
back to back.

 

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Liverpool Street Station

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