I can hear them walking away with fading laughter.
Then the transporting thrum of underground train
transporting my thoughts to nothing:
An every day Om.
I can hear the train fading away with laughter
and dead tone pronouncements skim across the pond
of my still brain.
Crowds caught in my vision, though I do not see.
The transporting thrum rising and falling.
I can hear them walking my way.
I hear the blood of the city
pumping through blackened arteries.
I hear the blood in my brain rising and falling.
I hear footsteps fading away.
Soft percussion under obscure melodies.
I hear it like a dream.