2005-11-14 - 3:42 p.m. Here's a poem written whilst a-waitin' for the subway. God Addresses the Strap-hangers Here comes the train. You didn't have to run. Here comes the train, As it tends to do, eventually. And when there's something round the bend you can only feel but not see, Know that breeze that rumbling that smell of speed and stopping is me. Big monkey trouble in Sector 18-C! thoughts? (6 comments so far) previous - next blog archive contact