Subway to the Center of the Earth

Groaning men

and tracks

of women who know

the carnal gaze

of tattooed jazz

in deep bass

as we’re heading down

a heated core

the violent shore

of tribal pound

a prophet’s sound

that says... 
                    we're

                              m

                                  e

                                     l

                                       t

                                         i n g

down a hole

of earthly flesh

with three stops left

Note: written for the dVersePoet prompt, "Subway."