There is a broken train up the line, so I am sitting in a pub, eating quinoa wraps with avacado and rice and spicy beef and a second pint of beer and the sea washes back and forth, endlessly back and forth, in the centre of London, people come in and blather, drink up and say goodbyes, back and forth, back and forth.
kestrelart 
I can feel the movement. (K)
That drawing of the sea is stupendous
Your words reminded me of T.S. Eliot’s “In the room the women come and go /
Talking of Michelangelo.”
Thanks
I can’t place that line. However, I’ve been reading and rereading Murder in the Cathedral and The Wasteland recently, and have the cadences in my head. It wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve mimicked him unconsciously.
This is where it’s from:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/44212/the-love-song-of-j-alfred-prufrock
Thanks
I remember now. That post was done when I was slightly drunk waiting for a delayed train home after a stressful meeting. So the main influences were alcohol and a sense of being disconnected from people as they came in and left and a feeling that the people coming in and out were like waves on the shore and their talk about as meaningful to me.