On the Link
On the Link
Track 1 West
Only once before
did the link train run this fast
on a late Sunday last year
I think in the middle of June
But when the train runs fast
these high seats are dumb witness
to an unbroken rumble
and a high singing rail
We sail on ringing tides of steel
past grinder mills that shift
their gravel to windward
and their dust from side to side
We slide and banter
passed north south venues
passed streams of endless corner malls
perpindicular to their stalls
Every angling sunlit exposure
reflected in a flat dimming cast
I can now see in my image
looking back at me in the glass
We are racing into the west
into a hole where the vast city
is awakened by the sound
of the doppler shift in the horn
West on track one
soon to a tired yawning station
where the crossing lanes converge
quickly vanishing fast
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