Poem 6 Revised

A day trip to Boston; Admission letter in the Mail

I don’t want to be on the train
But don’t fancy the station either
So I’m waiting–
–Waiting on the train
To take me to key-swipe comforts
Travel sized shampoos in
A room that isn’t mine, where I won’t linger
I’m waiting, waiting on the train.

What does it matter: travel
When we move time feels stationary
In the station, boundaries blur,
Faces of mismatched destinations,
Shifting in and out of peripheral
One by one a cattle call,
Time accommodates the footdrag masses.
But I’m waiting waiting, waiting, on the train.

I’m not moving forward, not without
The train, steaming–exhausted
From rhythm-wheel journeys. Static
Waiting on: railcars, acceptance letters,
inspiration, divine intervention.
Feet are for pacing; Be Patient
She hisses, like water on coal
So I’m waiting waiting waiting, waiting on the train.


Poem 6 EditedPoem 6 Original

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