Strained Nerves

by Elizabeth Switaj

Out of train, nothing
but wires bundled, becoming
          muscle on grey walls
"How can you marry me when I'm eleven years old?
That's statutory rape."         
                        says a woman to the nothing
                        sitting next to you

Out of train, nothing
but dark & blue
           cigarette-edge lights
"I'm out of work
that's not your fault."
                       a man bends down to play the keys
                       I  mean, he presses on

Out of train
             like lava tube
No silence when it burns

http://qassandra.livejournal.com
 

February 10

by Anna Cates

A crime took place on the subway.
What?
The executives look around.
A hand reaches for a briefcase
And an eyeball quivers at scattered light.

Deadlines crowd in on February 10,
As cockroaches crawl on a fallen calendar.

Tonight, the homeless don
Watercolor coats and dollar blankets.
Their tattered map suspends with time.

Snow melts in the dumpster—
Drowning garbage and yesterday’s newspapers.

But the doors switch God’s children—his very children.
Sunlight lands on 7 brass doorknobs.
Night turns cold as glass.