Train Underwater

Blue lights
the tunnel stinks of them
the modern smoke made
of their rainy dissipation

feet are falling in
above around the dimmed
squares combed with
cars clumped like larvae

the trained army of shoppers
a train tracking underwater

"Who could blame us? We
needed the furniture, badly"
(in a bad way, it's necessary)
Is it dust or just the wood?

The lion is as dead as the
ripped poster he's priding in
his eyes glaze mutely
and roar of starved thunder

The sound of plastic settling
shakes out the plastic of our ears