Retirement options for tube trains, #9 Staffordshire

In red socks,

Paul pads to the carriage end,

cross-fades the window downwards

and passes a hand

through his peppery hair.

Lucy tilts a bulbous suitcase

off the luggage ruck,

parking it across the plastic armrests

beside a Guess Who game

of Visit Stafford pamphlets,

suctioned

to a graffiti-etched window.

The carriage

reeks like warm antique.

“Fine, whatever, never-fucking-mind,”

Lucy mouths,

sotto voce, throwing her hands upwards

to the banner

of 1970’s cigar adverts.

Outside, a foul pond

is acupunctured with gnats.

Arcing over it

is a Japanese-style bridge,

in orange wood,

triumphantly bearing the sign

in faux-Las-Vegas-glitz,

Uttoxeter Tube Retreats

The Perfect Romantic Getaway!