The whole thing is fraught with peril!
Distant with my book, leaning alone
against a door of the L train,
sometimes distracted by cute boys,
sometimes never noticing the mad
preachers with the hidden hands,
this is no land for the lost.
Bumping along, the car fills with humanity,
all of us perhaps busy with our busyness,
eye contact at a minimum,
the train is like a waiting room.
But then the stop, then detraining,
and the platform and the stairs.
The whole enterprise is fraught with peril!
Misjudge the flow of the crowd,
get shoved trackwards, backwards,
misjudge the stairs and get trampled
by ever-marching shoes and the rat-a-tat
of soaking wet umbrellas.
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