Racing Through King's Cross

passed through Kings Cross today on Victoria
Line. no stops. a feint odor of smoke.

eerie empty horror
movie twilight. empty platforms.

twelve people looked up, eyes
shifting, lips

pursed. most
stayed in their music

or newspaper world -
distant - far

from the bodies
and bits of flesh.
I wanted to scream -

let’s all have a moment of silence here!
but - everyone was already quiet

contained. Bombings
happen all the time.

Remember the IRA?
They were more horrified

by my breast in Winston's’ mouth - lulling
hiss groans of rocking train and working jaws

helping his eyelashes kiss cheeks.
limbs going dead in my arms.