C is for Circuses: Oxford and Piccadilly

Circuses with all of the crowds but
none of the family entertainment.

Late night drunks, lost tourists,
sales shoppers and football fans,
the way home starts here in
a flurry of discarded McDonalds,
empty bottles and tired staff
joylessly watching fare dodgers
improbably vaulting over barriers.

Down below, the platforms swell,
the heat becoming thick and dusty.
A few with their heads down
read theatre programmes; others look up
and watch the train indicator stay blank.

Somewhere, in another tunnel,
a busker loops back to the start of his song:
'love,
love me do,
you know I love you.'