you know you want this.

the day the metro system broke

the day the metro system broke

Macpherson square, a man

jumped and stopped

the metro. a train

broke

and hit another like

toys.

we sit in the empty car and

wait, like Cinderella

as midnight pounds—

we wonder if we’ll get home.

motionlessly straddling the tracks

an hour, and the wheels creak,

painfully, rusty,

move the way old women drive cars,

the defeat you feel when you realize

honking isn’t going to do anything.

everything oscillates, old

plastic chairs peel back to the

beginning of yellowed foam.

we get home two hours later,

and we don’t know

anything about the man at

Macpherson square,

we forget when the

newspapers get folded into the

wood burning stove.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s