Hostile
Broken tannoy voice. Glare of steel and glass,
that melts Jaguars
and burns welcome mats.
Broken glass mind, sharp
and Camden bench cold.
Concrete bollards foundationed
to protect against trucks, rough sleepers,
and those rickshaws for the damn tourists.
It rumbles up inside of us all,
a tube approaching out of the tunnel.
Lessons in etiquette, no politeness -
“Stand to the right.”
“Let me off before you barge on”
“Can you move down inside!”
Hostile environments and their hostile humans.
