Any thoughts on this poem?

Train journey

Punched, num
bered and stoo
d up straight w
e filed into the b
lue metal tube dug
halfway into the city
like a tick, all blood leaves
given the chance, I thought,
sick of getting pumped around,
like me, nauseated with the light,
all cold and wet with sweat, dying
black in the thick smoke factory morning.

Skaters hi-jack the bike racks opposite, despondent,
the Universe of movement and shape suspended,
dependant on the will of nature,
somehow I enjoy it.

Picking up speed through the housing estates,
wet faces smearing like paint across the glass.

The beat of the track clacking hard and hammering
past bricked up chimneys and wooden windows,
flower gardens, coal yards, brick yards and docklands,
from steel melting furnaces to cool shades of green, browns,
and Summer yellows, heather blowing on the hills.
The tearful blue-grey sky, open on every side and welcoming,
young laughter echoing in black eyed tunnels.

Echoes,

my childish dreams of the moon and my heart,
beating faster all the time, out of tune.

It really rolls over you, like a train. Excellent.

Lines of note, at least to me:

The whole image in the Skaters verse (lovely, spans the mundane--the skaters "attitude--"to the infinite and then back to the simple self)

from steel melting furnaces to cool shades of green, browns, and Summer yellows, heather blowing on the hills. (complete journey out of the industrial city into the peace of the country, in two lines! Marvellous) [grammar question: should steel melting not be hyphenated?]

beating faster all the time, out of tune (yes, out of tune--yes)

I actually liked it. I thought it was going to be crapola but it's actually good. Well done mate, keep it up.

I must have been asleep the first time I read this. You do have a gift for using words to paint a scene. I like the smokestack form.