6:17
The churches have closed down,
The roosters sent inland,
But the trains cry every hour
A new set of commands:
Reminders that we work
Because we forget.
6:38
The people on the train:
Birds in a flock,
Visible from far off.
6:49
Commuters bow like monks in rows of plastic seats
Separated from God by just a thin line,
White wires coming out of their ears.
7:07
The conductor one day rides the rails like a DJ riding records:
Making jokes for every sleepy voice,
Clicking tickets with impeccable rhythm,
Announcing the stops as if we really need to get off there.
The next day’s conductor can’t look us in the eyes,
He hangs his head as he walks by,
Lets the stops go by unrecognized
As if connections are not meant to be made that day.
7:13
A gentle reminder, in the monthly newsletter
Not to watch porn on your iphone
For it could offend the person sitting next to you.
No such courtesy requested for newspaper headlines
Blaring their obscenities of fear and lies.
7:38
The most private acts:
Snoring, scratching, solitaire
Performed in the tightest of quarters;
It’s become so natural, a second den.
7:44
Like a gasp the power shuts off
When the train crosses over the river bridge
As children hold their breath when passing graveyards.
7:53
A person in sandals walks off the train.
I have never seen someone without shoes here before.
Another person in sandals walks on.
8:08
When first you hit the tunnel
You wonder if the eternal is darkness like this,
But then the dimmest dirtiest bulb
Reveals a network of tracks, a city of trains,
Homes carved out even under the streets.
8:11
Movement requires silence.
The train is silent
Except for the turning of the wheels,
The oscillating fans,
The skittering of brakes.
When it’s forced to stop
The conductor blows a harmonica over the intercom.
8:21
I watch the people leave the train
Like a football coach watches his players
Go back to the locker room at halftime.
They are already defeated.
