All hail to the majesty
of the Toronto subway!
Steeped in metaphor
imbued with majesty
cupped gently
in the caressing hands of poetry
it snakes through the tunnels
like a snake
that is extremely large
and filled with living people
Sometimes
the snake pauses for some reason
and the caressing hands of poetry
raise mighty middle fingers
to the travellers
All hail to the chaos
of the shuttle buses
which are crowded and smelly
and ultimately unnecessary
as the subway is snaking again
by the time they groan their way
into Jane Station
Bad Poem a Day 