On the Train

A man eats his breakfast on the train

Meekly for he knows it stinks

Quietly so maybe he won’t be noticed

The conductor mumbled the destination

On my ticket- so many passengers, so early

He didn’t even click his punch down the aisle

I will have lunch today hunched

Over a soup- I’ve worn the jacket

Whose sleeves are pre-stained for the task

I ask of you how can we go

In humility further so that our acts

Can match our allotted span on earth?

The soft plastic casing over the button, those two

Or the little mound that grows over

And is later found, a drumlin, a tump

Nothing outlandish, something to carry trees and

Still see the rails, whatever they need

Whatever comes next

But of course they don’t see it- Mr. Sandwich now 

Pounds loudly at his keyboard unknowingly​​

The conductor is sneezing into the P.A.

I fell asleep snoring loudly- a wide river laps

Smally at shore, I demurely plead

The train hurtles, barrelling

On incredibly and now we think

It is limitless