A slightly more leisurely poem today, written in honour of all the comfortingly crowded spaces.
The Crowd
Constant murmur of thronging souls
Used to being silent but now
Compelled to navigate thin
Corridors through the careful
Manipulation of their delicate
Vocal chords – it feels as though
I were at the bottom of the sea,
Dreaming in the rhythm
Of the currents. So easily
People become waves, battling
With silence. So easily I
Fall back from myself.
Encyclopaedia Vanitatum 