Quintessence Of Landed Pigeon

 
i am at the top of the railway station steps..
and already i hear what i cannot unhear
              and in all its glorious shrill reverb..

if you see something that does not look right
speak to a member of staff
see it
say it
sorted..

    so here we go..

and now that i am near the bottom of an escalator
it is only right that i am reminded again..

   if you see something that does not look right..
     speak to a member of staff
see it
say it
sorted..

or is it
see it
say it
sort it..

or is it
see it
say it
sore tit..

and as i walk to a platform..

if you see something......
     
                 .......seeitsaysorted..

and while i wait on the platform for my train..

if you see something that does not look right..

and then again at around four minutes later..
lost count..

      if you see something that does not look right
spea…

i interrupt her flooding flow
i say to a member of platform staff who is studying me..
..these constant reminders
repeated every few minutes every day
and for years and years
feel like aural torture..

                    ....seeitsayitsoretit..

he sniffs and looks away
but then i add
this must be horrendous..for you i mean
hearing this nonsense hundreds of times a day
every single day..and for how many years now..

he gazes at me
ruminates..then slowly nods an appreciative yeah..
he then shrugs his shoulders and half-whispers
well..
you just learn to block it out..
hear without listening
thanks though..i hear you..

as my train arrives we nano-nod at one another..
like secret comrades..

the main light never switched back on
heads compressed full of overhead halogen 
invite us all to pull the fear towards ourselves..
ever the wallflower
should we dance..

the essence of the void..
numb and on edge
all to keep us.

                         us so safe..

a station pigeon expresses itself
a jackson pollock homage splashed over a signboard
coos rise to a differing planet
as inteference-struck tuning forks
ever retreat from the infinite limit..