Eight Diamonds

The eight of diamonds laid alone

By the running hand rail

Of dirty fingertips that slip

Day by day up the giant

Metal jaws of the alligator

Escalators elevating commuters

Up and down by frozen computers

Where the sight of that lonely card

Lays alone under adverts

Subverting the gaze of the unsuspecting

Eyes of 7 million

Lives talking and bustling

Through the hustle of London streets

Greeted with a wry grin

Elongating the skin this card

Lays still and watches

Fingertips all day through hours

Hours and nobody glances

Back but for one man with

30 on his mind because

Age is never kind and this

Diamond of 8 doesn’t have

Time to wait for you to go

Back and take it from its

Underground cell, chests

Swell with breath bodies digest

What the eyes don’t see the

Stomach agrees to consume what

It can and the joker

Has gone the pack stuck as 1

Its 51 counterparts disappeared

For the most part a solitaire

Game never won because of 1

Slight of hand trick gone wrong.

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