Standing
arms folded on the platform.
My tongue tastes like a long night
and my legs
stand on their own
and my lungs
feel like an oven.
I hold my tongue like my bladder
and the man with the cup
stands and shakes
and sings
on
the subway.
A crowded platform
means the train is coming.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
Standing
arms folded on the platform.
My tongue tastes like a long night
and my legs
stand on their own
and my lungs
feel like an oven.
I hold my tongue like my bladder
and the man with the cup
stands and shakes
and sings
on
the subway.
A crowded platform
means the train is coming.
Request permission to use this poem