Elm Park Station

Pursued by toxic Mozart with a
Dash of Beethoven the foyer emptied
Stood in proud, squat, bleak splendour
The sound system of Elm Park Station’s
Primeval squeaking speakers
Had conquered feral youth again

The CCTV camera smirked
As its lens swept over the foyer,
Strewn with free newspapers
Gratefully deposited by youth hating commuters,
Youths sometimes known as son and daughter
Who tell of the terrors of classical music

Commuter, truth be told, hate it too
And can’t understand who anyone can work there
Blasted by sublime music from dead white men
Which no-one has on their Ipod
Can’t even be downloaded, so they’ve been told
Lets hurry: Catch a bus: Quick.

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