Double-Track Journeys
You stood with crossed arms
Pathways
up automatically
like greenhouse gas
rising
up and up
and disembodied voices
marking your progress.
Flashing signs mark the time
that no-one else seems to feel
Subterranean thoughts
Sepulchral dreams spilled out
long masses of people march expectant
to the mouth of the mall
and herds feed at colourful stalls
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