Walking To the Train
It is the hour of day again
I shall go and catch the train
The crowded trains
That goes swishing up and down, up and down
Like an insulated thermometer
Through the vagaries of our bad weather.
I must be careful at the lights
While getting there to go nowhere
But back to the Bronx again
And the solitude that with the city I share.
The cars along the freeway hums
Like needles in a junkies veins
The world is cold and shivering
The streets are a mess after the rain
The light is changing now I can go
With the mass of human flow
Without wine or communion
Without gravity's dead opinion
O it is the hour of the day
When I must be careful not lose my way.
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