Poetry by Daniele Nunziata
Eyes down. Hood up. Collar around the neck.
Disengage. Pretend no one else around exists.
The tube is packed with bodies,
The streets crowded with corpses,
But they stopped being human,
The moment they left their houses.
The tubes criss-cross in a pattern without end.
The set times telling you how long to spend.
Can’t waste time. Must rush in.
Fill up all the space before you’re crushed in.
Time to go. Time has gone. It’s Time!
Time too short to finish this –
As we follow the escalator up.