Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Subway Poem 3

The sun's on its way down
And the whole town's
Gone underground

Waiting for the train
Can hardly remember
This morning's rain

Down here, we're all so close
Your breath on my neck
My breath on her sleeve

Down here, it doesn't matter
That hours ago
I left my umbrella in some room

Doesn't matter who I miss
Or what I crave

Doesn't matter if you've got on
Gold peep-toes
Or a shiny yellow slicker

'cause down here
We're not going anywhere
But home


Anonymous said...

Love the subway poems!! More...??

Jillian said...

I think Ms Gold Peep Toes might not be going home, but going to work...but maybe that's just a hunch.