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THE "F" TRAIN
by
yisroel loeb

How do you justify a norm
That is at its’ very essence – wondrously bizarre?
How can you comprehend an average
That is in all honesty, sub-par?

Look around - what do you see?

I see the blank stare
The dead eyes
Of another middle aged man
Who in his youth forgot to dream.

I see the sad eyes of a “handsome” women
Who no longer
Can feed off the attention her looks once generated.

I see a thousand people
A thousand bodies
A thousand souls
Willing themselves
Into a cattle car
Deathly afraid to touch one another
Yet desperately hoping for a brief glance.

The doors open
Another mass of as of yet undead bodies attempt to fill the empty space.
Each one determined to grasp a
Hand hold
(Without having to touch one another).

Picture -
A mass of outstretched arms,
Grasping fingers
Hanging onto the only object in the train car
Not swaying in all direction.

One hand slips downwards
Propelled by slick moisture
(Origins unknown but oddly accepted)
Touching another
And quickly
As if burned -
Moves back up.

Then there are others
Who linger for just a moment.
Hands slip as if on purpose
Briefly touching the soft flesh just below
Offering a shy yet inquisitive greeting.

And as they touch
Their heads, eyes
Will suddenly rise
And look to connect.
Testing the waters

Of human contact.

--Submitted by yloeb on 2015-05-27.

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