transplanted onto the platform

deep underground

some other realm

    the sounds surround

and i float away

                                                        but my feet stay planted on those

                                                                                yellow raised dots.

The Tragedy of Life

on display

heads held only by hands

sorrow swelling from the dark oily tracks

somehow i am here in the middle of it

something about the subway station

    an underground haven 

                                        a sacred dumping ground,

i don’t dare move and disturb the  air

                                                           air thick with forgotten dreams and mortal mourning.

quiet bustling

warm from bodies and

    the soft yellow lanterns

            remind me that we are in a cavern beneath the city

something about waiting

                                        waiting         waiting

                    it makes me so sentimental

the lone guitarist plays on.

                                                                        the train moves along

somehow we all get to where we are going,

                                the lucky ones anyway.

i stand still in reverie

    the tunnel shudders and red bursts

    towards me towards me wind bursts

    through and the notes         fly away

    a melody lost to the murk

like it was all a dream.