CXXXIII - Terrorism on the Eight Oh Five.

.

Terrorism on the Eight Oh Five.

They stood or they sat
In their own personal worlds,
As, unaware of their peril,
Through the suburbs they hurled.

In the clarity of hindsight,
Or so reporters were tappin’,
It was surely an incident
Just waiting to happen.

The first sign to appear
Of an assault underway
Were suspicious glances
And little coughs of dismay.

It’s hard to be finding
An act more foul
Than the malodorous venting
Of a festering bowel.

But the train sped on
Not knowing the despair
Of a carriage full of people,
Desperate for air.

Come the train station,
And in a strange parallel,
People in a stink
Burst forth from their shell.

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© J Cosmo Newbery
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