Soaring through
The black tunnel
Another poem about the train
Forms on the edges of my mind
We get close
Listening to music
And closing our eyes in
A whole hearted attempt
To be an invested listener
Strive to learn more
And disconnect from
Monotony and social invisible
Can I take you to lunch or grab
You a coffee
Perhaps we can have tea
Or a double shot of whiskey
Over the next week
Over the next month
Can I gain ground in the books
I long to read
Make a recipe from your kitchen
And turn over every leaf
With genuine efforts to compliment,
Enrich and fortify
This side of a treasured union
Where it is most certainly
My whimsical ways that could surprise
Or randomize out the boldest or
Driest ideas
What is the way I want to write?
Does it come from the heart
Of Marquez with sentences
Long and elegant
Stones that are never turned over
But peaked beneath
Treated with veils of humanity
At present I fear for the stranger
Sitting on the train
And pull from my soul every last ounce of
Please do not speak to him
Not this time
The lighter gripped tightly
The face chiseled stone
Whitened and unable to breathe
With freedom
Why my stomach pitches
And my heart beats “danger”
I do not know
Will he fall before he makes it home?
He moves faster than I can believe
The edges of my mind brings
Poetry back to the train
At the end of this day.