Feeling does not last here;
what remains weighs thick
the lumbering clouds of cement,
the unmoving haze of earth.
I find you, by the north exit
of the second line subway station,
on the remains of the ancient
destroyed city wall.
Reminds me of this:
ReplyDeleteHere I am
on a subway station bench
next to two teens, one pretty, one not:
the pretty one keeps saying how much
she'll miss the unpretty one, kissing her cheeks,
while the unpretty one looks down at her lap
saying no you won't no you won't until the train comes
and on goes the pretty one still smiling,
twirling her red plastic clutch, singing goodbye
I'll call you, and the unpretty one just sits here
like a stone, even after the train is gone,
even after I write this down.
Not too many subway poems out there I suppose. :)