Cramped, crowded, full of many types of riders
From lounging hipsters to the unemployed
Cooped in by some half-broke plastic dividers
And metal poles flanking the central void
Packed to the gills, yet never quite all full
Because some empty pockets alway form
Exuding to outsiders a strong pull
Because, in winter, it is always warm
And in the summer air-conditioned; seeming
Forever to be late, yet never quite
Enough to fail to function; never gleaming,
Always a bit too dingy in the light:
And I love it, for it makes me free
To roam the city as it pleases me.
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