Express Train to Somewhere Else
30 May 2007
You are at the station.
The conductor is staring, unmoved
by your waves of anxiety.
The train is on time.
It's time to get onboard.
Beyond the temporal,
spatial deadlines the vast
Air compresses like ice on naked arms
dancing in the space
underneath the station lights
and the hissing cockroach flows
along the floorboards
where nothing but darkness can escape
the high heeled clickity clacking shoes.
The train wheels scream
as the brakes are applied.
The doors open and the nose pierced coed
swings herself away from the twitching, suited man
who looks about nervously, nursing a tumor like a baby,
worrying about the stock market he'll never see.
You walk up the metal stairs
without looking down.
In the distance you see a crowd of faceless faces,
silhouettes of corporeal flesh, background music,
the sound of sobbing voices, praying.
You're on the express train to somewhere else.
It's too late to turn back now.
© 2007, Satya J. Gabriel