Friday Morning

Friday morning
I walk the same
way each morning,
take the same
never ending
never changing
one after
another forming this snake
like path
across the MTA grid.

up and down
I march
just like today
dragging my broken
towards a world
that brings vomit and
bile across my tongue.

I don’t rush and
shove as others do,
but march,
march in a slow
deathly speed.

the doors open
and shut, people
hurl their bodies
into a space no
bigger then a coffin.

up and down I walk,
each step bringing
me closer to dread.

they run towards
the coming trains
(two at the same time –
each taking them to
the same place).

I pace myself
no need to rush.
three steps from the
bottom and the
doors close.

both eight-car long
worms leave,
seconds apart and I
seconds away from
not giving a damn.
I walk beside the
thick strip of
a sign to deter others
from jumping.
I thread the line –
dare devil am I.

one day,
one day.