HARD CANDY

this new anticipation 
is a hard candy to chew all week
i savour the flavours
that NEVER fade

and tho the train is modern electric and too bright inside 
with rush-hour free papers folded and thrown
and all moulded plastic lacking soul -
a
future
mistake
of a hum-rattle-thrum -
its 
all black and white and shrill whistles and past elegance and 
rolling steam and uniformed porters in hats
to us 
when we meet 
in the cold chav station of New Town
where
the
echo swears from the monkey clots
in denim tubes and pastel tops
might as well
be
unicorn farts
to
us