PATH TRAIN

a backdrop of graffiti loops by with
colorful tags that try to distract
rush hour passengers
from the marshes
of the Meadowlands.

possible land to unmarked graves
the scenery marks the way home.
words on a page are shared
with second hand eyes
the forecast was wrong
it didn't rain.

strangers are wedged
stripped of reserve
contact is inevitable
boundaries disappear.

no one speaks
some are occupied
others just stare at
Nothing.

then the Prudential appears
the ride is over.
the doors open
turnstiles spin
as they empty
the train.

Reviews

[m.s.early]

The author allows us an to ease drop on elements of the human experience so familiar they are often overlooked. Here is a scene from an ordinary metropolitan commute she has constructed in a way that commands us to recognize a forced relationship on unsuspecting characters. Before public transit and elevators and other bits of modern human experience, the human touch was used to intimate emotion, be it fondness or aggression. Here we recognize how human boundaries have evolved to bare inconveniences in order to move here to there in less than platonic relations.

Strangers read the paper over other strangers' shoulders to occupy time. How mundanely we stare out the window on any trip looking for something to occupy our idle minds. Society has numbed itself to quietly associate with passiveness rather than engage each other even on a remotely intimate level. We maintain a pleasantness on a torpid level with one another.

A very revealing illustration on an otherwise ordinary aspect of the human condition proving without a doubt poetry is everywhere and this author has a keen perception and talent to reach into the air and extract it. Bravo!

[NeiL ArandA]

You've witness a rush hour on acommuter train . Your words Mockingbird is really captivating . You described and noticed the graffiti on the walls . Perhaps overheard the latest news being discuss .Or perhaps eaves dropping on some conversations . Quite intriguing that you thought of penning such a experience . What ithought about here are the nameless people we encountered briefly and off they go with their own life and business . Never made impression never made adifference . Let alone never really get schance to know one . Its really quite achallenge when and how to break the ice . I enjoyed this piece . As i read it I was also imagining what was your thinking and why your thinking . And what was going through your mind .

[Mockingbird]

you really understood this poem...i was almost embarrassed to put this up because it seems so inocuous, but you get it. thank you.