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