Twitter Prompts – Poems: #4, “Abyss”

(look, i don’t choose ’em…)

tried something different: wrote a poem on the train instead of a play, crowded in by a woman who fell asleep on me. last night was a strange night for public transit in every way.

“Brown Line, 4:47pm, 12/12”

what’s left
under the tracks
isn’t usually that sanguine


white + red lights
an illuminated sign
on interconnected metal box-cages
hurtles vigilant but bored
into the early winter midnight


sometimes i think folks are staring when i’m on the train
but i realize much like me
they’ve got that soft focus
everyone’s just staring into their own black holes


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