Tuesday, September 30, 2008


Snub-nose silver trains
wink red letters in dark tunnels,
run roaring and screeching below our feet

This room twists around me
choking on the still, flat summer air,
hemmed in, pinned down,
pithed by the absence of trees

Climb the cracked and pitted stairs
the corners filled with ash and memory,
gulp in air and rooftop views,
strings of lit windows
like shining stars across the black river

The moon deigns to show her face
and, for a moment, this feels like home
this haven temporary,
torn apart by screams and shouts
from the filthy alley below