Mass Transit
Beneath the surface battle wagons screech,
and hurtle through interminable night,
the squealing din, like harpies to the fight
becomes the threnody that screams to each
brave soul, squeezed tight in unforgiving heat.
The pages of a magazine lie scattered,
US News And World Report, as if it mattered,
riders wobble to the wild and crazy beat.
Working men rub shoulders with Fifth Avenue elite,
claustrophobics, desperate to leave,
once seen, and seldom to be seen again
burst into light, end of the line for some.
The street draws pilgrims, anxiously they brave
the urgent undulations of the train.
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