It was so admired that day, as any
day, the
smell of personal incense in the rush to
Moorgateto
courts at Finsbury.
Central Line, behold. You stately Victorian
fighting the character of faster models in Piccadilly
or the introspective Circle:
all arise with New Years honours.
But this day be sad, Northern Rialto, for a passenger
met you in the tunnel
impertinent, proud like Hector,
Standing erect with his briefcase/shield
to attend his first meeting.
to
courts at Finsbury.
