Abstraction exercise developed into Poem:

I am an Atticus (atlas moth).

Travel underground, in this fluorescent lit train.
The rails rapidly shift and it reeks of piss.
A blind man yielding poles, nurtures a paper cup.
Softly drop in lint and change from your pocket, and watch them slither to the bottom of his elixir.
Walk hastily towards the street and dwell on starving children withering away; their frail dying bodies.
An old man falls on the crosswalk, buckling under grocery bags filled with condiments.
Retrieve the goods for him, and acknowledge his eyes as they emerge into the universe.
Run home to capture some kind of end; battery acid pumps through your veins.
A bottle of gin lay empty on the table.
The last drops from the rim slide down legs, as I caress the muscles of my lover.

The words in bold are lines from the exercise.