Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Micah 2d
to the boys I see on trains
where are you going?
rushing off, rattling down, in a train car
towards your stop
start getting up so you don't get caught being seated
but where are you going?
to work at a job that pays only copper coined pennies?
to your Other who's dressed to the nines?
to school with books weighing heavy in your backpack?
and why do you look at me like I look at you?
are you wondering too?
maybe I have something on my face and you're thinking "my god, she has something on her face"
or maybe
when your eyes flitter up to mine and away and then back to mine
you're thinking of something else
but to the boys I see on trains
I hope you find your way to wherever you're going
because it is too early to be so lost
It was on
May 17th
My birthday

My 30th
That I Saw


I mean


Oh hi!
You can hear me!!
You understand!!!

I've been

I slept
With a

I had just
Met named


He was a Trump

He had gotten
Out of jail


I am only ******
When in a child like

So it seemed
Like a match
In hell

He took the lead
And I Sub

I realized I love in apt
annh Sep 1
Subway skip jive,
Off and on,
Up and over,
Been and gone.

Mind your wallet,
Watch your step,
Take your seat,
Turn right, lean left.

Token trav’lers,
Quick, quick, slow,
We’re underground,
And on the go.

‘I loved the abandoned subway stations, rushing past the darkened platforms, the sprawl of graffiti like old letters. Letters left by ghosts.’
- Hannah Lillith Assadi, Sonora
Ray Dunn Aug 10
drunkenly stumbling
down corridors,
slamming into knees
and train doors.

all with earbuds in—
disgusted looks on their face
as i grab the pole,
and move with haste!

i drop to a seat,
covered in dust
in the last car,
as the cables rust.

no light to be seen,
buried underground—
the traveler on the F train,
when clocks don’t make a sound.
idk idk idk
Aseh Jun 16
stumbling bowlegged through the last subway car,
loose-fit black rags bandaging frail limbs,
face twisted in a permanent scowl,
matted grey hair jutting from a flaky scalp,
she jangles her paper cup of coins
each flail of the arm a sharp crescendo;
I flinch.

She extends her hand with a gaze that says: pity me;
I cannot look. I don’t want anything to stir in me,
my own pain is already too heavy,

but --

here they are: spoiled thoughts wafting over me like the waves
of her robust stench: warmth
between my thighs,
bounding up thick muscular arms that aim at me in such earnest that my disillusionment melts away, and I am paralyzed
by the lure of pheromones and the smell of skin
which doesn’t quite leave you after you leave him.

And then truth clangs hard in my chest:

but her bones are made of steel!
So who am I to look away?
Maybe if something were to crash into me,
I’d pulverize
declan morrow Jun 15
i wanna take the subway
i wanna take the train
to the end
of the

i wanna think
in anonymity

of how i see you
in the face of each
passing stranger
of how your breath sweeps over me
in the draft from
the black tunnel

i beg the calm silence of
time passing
to align my hopes
i hope the city can set me free
i hope it reminds me that although i am lost
i am unafraid
Jude Quinn May 20
The sky in Mexico City is gray
cause the blue is rooted in the hearts of its citizens.
Here it's so easy to feel alone in public.

Sitting in subway cars
full to the brim with people,
dreaming with emptiness.

I thought I saw you
sitting in front of me,
but that was just some illusion
I caught
when the lights of the station
flashed on my eyes.
Bellissima May 13
I ride through tunnels of death.
The tracks are our veins,
bending and branching
through dark holes
in our corpses.
Next page