Monday, November 7, 2016

301 km/h

While stilled scenes flee before they’re seen, sways strung
ever eastward fling sudden jolts from right
to
left.  Wheels spun to max grind iron rails,
whose shrieks the peaking charge
suppresses.  Splayed
for bids to move about,
folks reach for what
was stowed, do belly flops
on luggage dropped
when westward bullets hurtle past.  I clutch
an
overhead rack, strive to stay upright.
Conductors scowl, check my ticket, advise

I seek an unclaimed seat since I insist
they not remove a mother with her child
from mine.  I struggle to a vestibule,
press beside a window, from which I mark
walls outside are frenzied in haste to hide
exploited lands before they’re within sight.

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