The Subte Series
- published: September 13, 2005
Word Count: 173 Word Bytes: 1328 Viewed: 900 times
© Copyright by xinerama
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I do not post too much, so here are two recent poems
You can always tell when línea C is approaching
estacíon San Juan.
It sounds like an avalanche tumbling down
a San Franciscan alley .
As you board you notice, almost everyday, another
You have yours though, and are thoroughly satisfied,
But with every stop
Avenida de Mayo
You wonder curiosities about her and the trials she
has endeavored in her life.
Then the next stop is yours.
You head left, she right
and poof it’s gone.
Tokyo where are you now
These subtes get so packed
“el olor de humanos”
Seeing people’s glances and stares
the electrical wires buried hypoterra something like
the Matrix or Geiger – the hypereality
I boarded @ Lavalle
gremlins move this older model subterraneous tren
the tunnels, trains and people are all exhausted.
Blank stares with an occasional blink give cues.
These older subtes get so packed with humans.
Eyes like singeing blue lazers that tell you nothing.
More by xinerama »
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