On a Train to Nowhere

On a train, way home,
Windows reflecting neons,
and the sky full of smog,
in a promise of hope
to cure cancer and old age,
the price is ceding identities
in the billionaire’s vantage.

The chromatic luminous screen,
Reads out loud and Lucent
“The future is antibiotics
The protesters are just myopic”

My watch offered me success,
My phone offered me true love
Is man now a commodity?
And the insentience a necessity?
This idea was irritating me,
The blurry lines conflating me.

I alighted the train, dull and pale;
My “happy snack”, tasted stale,
I then, tossed the snack,
In dustbin and myself on bed
I need to cleanse it all
Before the horrors-
of tomorrow can be fed.

Reviews

[Tom]

Like a pet hamster rounding round and round a cylinderical wire wheel yet always stuck in the same place, this poem has that enduring quality, yes, even that 'happy snack ' couldn't overcome the sense of angst and déjà vu...