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WHERE THE SUBWAY RUNS

By Lillibit Ray



Hopping on the escalator

taking no steps, a man

floats down, underground,

to catch a subway train traveling,

not always knowing

where the trains in life lead,

but this ride he will take to the end.

 

Smells of mildew, urine, trash,

olfactory senses on alert,

he approaches a train heading

to nowhere he has previously gone,

desperate to find redemption but fooled again

by counterfeit angels and false gods.

 

He walks past a barefoot busker with worn guitar

And crooked blue eyes

staring ahead in opposite directions,

blinded by life, but better able

to see through transparent human nature.

 

The man passes a woman with crystal ball.

Filled with black smoke and purple dragons,

Sitting cross-legged, against the wall,

Propped up by barrier to world above,

Searching an orb for synthetic love.

 

The man boards the train

and the subway cars

snake through dark tunnels,

serving as a current day time warp,

where one can climb aboard as a child

and exit as a walking corpse

searching for the station

where the dead now cavort.


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