Did anyone tell you
  that in each subway train
  there is one special seat
  with a small hole in it
  and underneath the seat
  is a tank of piranha-fish
  which have not been fed
  for quite some time.
  The fish become quite agitated
  by the shoogling of the train
  and jump up through the seat.
  The resulting skeletons
  of unlucky passengers
  turn an honest penny
  for the transport executive,
  hanging far and wide
  in medical schools.

Some years ago, Edwin Morgan was commissioned by the Scottish Arts Council to write a series of poems for the inauguration of Glasgow’s refurbished Underground system. He sent this sample, which sent such alarm through the Strathclyde transport executive that they decided against using the poems.

from Poems On The Underground

Even London Underground didn’t dare to use the poem - its only given in the anthology’s notes. I was reminded of it both by the Morgan poem you gave, and by a trip last week to Calcutta. Passing the entrances to the Calcutta Metro, I couldn’t help remembering that Calcutta is also the centre of India’s thriving human skeleton export trade…

— Vikram