Thread: The Train Perforates Something

As we poured through tunnels
laced with graffiti and plastic bags,

a German told me
in a saraband of broken English
and three fingers splayed at his wrists,
he worked with sectionally abused children,
always with the cuts here.

I could feel the whiskey in my nose,
the spreading burn of open capillaries.

The tracks tamed our momentum
and shook my head on my shoulders.

There was only the sound of the stone ballast
disappearing beneath us.

All I could do was wring my red hands
in on themselves.

The sun had laid down
behind a line of trees
no one will remember,

and I can only think of a man
who makes statues from clay,
a man who breaks them apart
after painting them
into the people of his life.

This reminds me of the subways in NYC at night.

You had me wrapped tightly in your grasp until that last stanza, I just couldn't make the connection. It's a wonderful stanza on it's own but I can't make it fit. My interpretation skills stink, so it could be I'm missing something. So 'splain me Lucy, I'm confused. You've got the subway down pat, and that's coming from a tunnel rat. All of those breaks in the middle make it seem too choppy, I suggest incorporating the first three mini stanzas and leaving the fourth to stand alone. "There was only the sound..." is awkward, may I suggest placing a comma after shoulders and following with "the only sound was the stone ballast disappearing beneath us." Excellent imagery and I adore the penultimate stanza, I've been outside on the el at sunset, very beautiful, and it did exactly what you wrote. I enjoyed this, Loki, very much so, in fact, you, sir, have a very unique style I'm finding very pleasing to embrace.

Best,
Lisa

I like these recommendations. The paragraph from mini-sentences gives me some flow. This was a poem with two narratives originally, and the last paragraph is from the narrative I cut out. I wanted it to work so badly that I had to try.

Great stuff, Lisa.

Thanks!