Insatiable

I have known the insatiable hunger of subways,
Tucked in tight tunnels, surge of cars and tiled walls,
All the gasping of rumpled trash and clothes,
Appetite in tainted common corridors,
Cavernous ticket booth, passageway, timetable,
The writhing tactics of tourist and worker,
Craving of toe-tapping, loafer and Rolex,
Endless custom of man and taut paper.
And I have seen mud cake the floor of car cabins,
Thicker than blood, throbbing, less filling than gases,
Clot, fully obscuring, over these constant commutes of routine,
Pouring a thick crust on cans and cracked gray tracks,
Coating the quiet hours, the starving masses.

[This poem was inspired by the form and rhythm of Theodore Roethke's "Dolor," which can be read here.]