The Rush

I was standing in the subway,

waiting for the train

in the distance, the white eyes of the snake 

glared at me

"It's coming," I whispered to myself.

But it was not the train that I would catch you on.

As it neared, the volume of its rumbling increased in numbers -

earth-shaking power -

I began to feel the rush.

Then the wind came up

it nearly blew the hat off my head

I sensed the strength

and the unmerciful force

that nearly swept me away.

But this was not the train -

not yet.

I watched, and part of me was pulled along

as this train went on without me

[heartless infatuation,

you give me a feeling, but nothing more. . .]

how disappointing.

And in the past few weeks that I've been waiting, 

I've begun to wonder

why it's always the one that passes

instead of the one that stops

but there is a force that takes me down there

and a certain pleasure to the rush

and I keep thinking it will be the next time -

so I do not mind the wait.

- Oct. 26, 1987