Friday, December 7, 2012


So you are standing on the platform
having gotten off at the wrong (damn) stop,
eating valuable time,
yet staring at the raised rubber dots, yellow,
on the stairs
worrying about fleas, chemicals, the future,
whether you should just end it,
why not here?
Another train comes,
sooner than you expected,
the doors open
and you get on.

Decaying subway girder.

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