Friday, May, 15, 09

this train stops at 86th st

Filed under: a moment in my head — theradishpress @ 6:59 pm

by theradishpress

crammed in here with shoving arms and legs and torsos, but no hands.

if you shove with your hands then it’s a fight.

i can smell sandalwood oil on the man in front of me. he is close, inches away. his dark neck looks smooth except for the one

thin line of wrinkle towards the base.

my left side is meeting sharp objects in a large backpack. they move into me as the train lurches forward.

and this express train is going slower than the local.

to my right towards my back a man keeps leaning. there is not room to lean. how can he lean?

and to my left towards my back one man has managed to find just enough space to dance with headphones on his head. he does not mind the heavy breathing, foot stomping, breathe with your mouth at times train ride.

when the car first fills my foot is crushed and a girl holding the same pole and i meet eyes and half laugh at the hurry and the frantic energy of these other passengers. i have places to go too, but i feel no need to shove. and despite my size i manage to take up little room, holding myself in, keeping my body close.

this train ride ends soon and i am let out onto a hot platform and up short steps to a neighborhood with mothers looking younger than their children and dogs with more expensive clothes than my entire collection of t-shirts and jeans.


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