Friday, April 29, 2011

Purgatory at the 2nd Avenue Station

Razor blade - sharp - shines at my eye.
Trumpeter plays the Dreiwitz pygmy horn, silenced for the hundredth time by the arriving uptown F.

There's never been a quick transfer at the 2nd Avenue Station.
Not for me in 15 years.

His licks sound like a blind cat sweeping his claws against linoleum
for a chance to find a bottlecap (his own toy invention), 
once belonging to a 2-liter bottle of coca-cola or pepsi.

With arms raised, another stretches out the bullshit of the day.
It sheds but unfortunately, he gets it on everyone else - 
because he feels it, he's relieving himself.

Men think they are cute - in movies directed by women.
Period pieces... so lonely are they.
They dress the part and their faces say - 
"Save me
Mother me up
I'm real"
It's here:
For everything, I feel.