I never choose fruit

[cidermaid]

Hi Keith,  I've read this several times now.
Must admit I find the title distracting more than anything.  I think the title is actually reading like the first line and in this sense it makes more sense and fits well enough but held in isolation and reapplied to the overall thread of the poem it is a bit of a stretch and is for me not working hard enough.

A couple of comments below. 

Every lunchtime I slip away,
sit on my park bench meal deal, My main stumble comes here and could just be me but when I read this line I immediatly have an silly image of someone who has sat on thier lunch and then my shallow and easily distracted mind is off thinking up what a coffee/ sandwich and buscuit stain is going to look like.  You might want to consider some punctuation attention so that you are not sitting on your lunch!
coffee with a shot of vanilla,
sandwiches and a chocolate biscuit
or fruit.   Overall I like the detail and the normalness of it all ...and of course the fruit option which is never chosen (as per title...so It does make sense)

The city drones regardless,  Not sure this is needed at this juncture because we do not have anything that it is reguardless too  (it is a normal backdrop perhaps)
a backdrop to my tranquil moment.
Today is different, it taps for my attention,   Not sure what is tapping in this line...the city or the backdrop noise.  Don't dislike the line it just leaves me with a question.
vocal chords that wont hold still
they shout and scream,
blowing panic, man and machine
that tumble down crowded streets
quicker with each step,
rubble falls around me

I feel like a drunk woken at a party
stumbling to process the marker-pen scene, love these image and context of these two lines they are working hard, not so convinced about the syntax of drunk woken at...it sounds off to me but not sure why.
drowning sirens are seen not heard   Drowning is used well here in context with the waking drunk image so don't mind the ing word but then they begin to go into overdrive in later lines, perhaps consider loosing one of the ing words.
dust has its hands down my throat.
The rubble turns to burning bodies,
thumping to the ground,
splitting branches from the trees.
My mind had told my legs to run
long before it told me.

Very clear 9 /11 images. nicly done
AJ.