Cluttered black coats spout
steam clouds on platforms
before the train eats them.
Each coat, a machine entering
machines entering
Manhattan. This morning's
track grease, a suicide's
body, makes us momentarily
organic by seeing the red parts that
compose us. "Fucker ruined
my meeting," someone hisses.
Doors remain closed. The train goes
nowhere. A faulty cog
stalls a machine.
steam clouds on platforms
before the train eats them.
Each coat, a machine entering
machines entering
Manhattan. This morning's
track grease, a suicide's
body, makes us momentarily
organic by seeing the red parts that
compose us. "Fucker ruined
my meeting," someone hisses.
Doors remain closed. The train goes
nowhere. A faulty cog
stalls a machine.