April Poem #10

This train is bound for death
But sometimes it happens before we get there.
Women hang from the ceiling
Long hair wrapped around the beams.

Water still in the bathtub
Where she slipped beneath her blanket
And fell asleep.

Red paint matches red hearts matches red
We all know what is red.
We’re getting so close now,
Pressing our backs against the walls.
Swaying, staggering, straightahead.
I meet your eyes, amazed that

You’re still there.

Swaying, staggering, I cross cars crossing miles.
Take your hand like when you were a little girl.
Watch the world speed by outside

And jump.

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