BOOKENDS; STILL ME ON THE METRO

  It was this morning and yesterday, all at once, a smell, a scent on the metro, in my nostrils, a decent into memory, a reverie playing, replaying while the Counting Crows played Round Here. We sang our own song, once, but time, like the metro, took us into different directions, with obligations steered to […]

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CITE 

  A city in shadow, a choice; to stay or leave, to be the inquisitor or the commuter, to be constant in the light or to comprehend the darkness, far from it, to break down the barrier between all there is to see and all there is left of us to fear. All words and […]

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MILES OF AISLES

DAY 27; NATIONAL POETRY WRITING MONTH #NaPoWriMo There’s a lady with a leek, on the metro, next to me, a vegetable, vegetating while she’s reading a book, and that leek, next to me, moving through the miles, like vegetables, on shopping aisles, vegetating, waiting be cut, to be cooked, killing time; twisting, stopping, starting. There’s […]

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TRACKS OF TEARS

Day 15; National Poetry Writing Month 30 Days/30 Poems #NaPoWriMo There’s a girl this morning on the metro, unaware of the crowds, unaware that I’m late. There’s a girl on the metro packed with tears, with tears in her eyes and no place for more lies. There’s a girl on the metro in the morning, […]

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STILL MOVING…

  Moving, still moving on metros, more metros, more sturdy, more stable, more directive, less suggestive, people, more people, less strangers, more familiar on metros still moving through motions of settling, the notions of belonging to lives above these lines, above these metros still moving like my life that’s still changing, new lands, new lines, […]

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STILL MOVING ON METROS

Moments on the metro still moving still cruising still choosing still cosy with commuters who don’t communicate, why does commuter look like communication when no commuter communicates? Moments on the metro still moving, still stopping still breaking, still taking chances still stealing glances penning poems nodding into naps bags loaded into laps. Moments on the […]

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MINUTES MOVING

There are but minutes now, minutes in motion on metros,  minutes moving in on me, on my identity  on my mark, on my leaning, on my meaning,  meaning I am moveable like a feast, as he said, A Moveable Feast, meaning I am manageable  malleable, maybe unremarkable, mistakable. There are but minutes now,  minutes moving […]

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