Tagged: bridge and tunnel

as soon as the doors slide

as soon as the doors slide
open on the Manhattan-
L-train, we pick our
seated target, step
into the car,
making a beeline
to settle in front of our
fellow commuter
who looks most like
a Lorimer
or a Bedford –
if we get lucky,
it’s a smooth,
seated ride the rest
of the way, even if
we get a little stuck
in the tunnel

embedded into each

embedded into each
loving crevice, forty
years of walk-ins
lovers, quarrelers,
dancers, stumblers,
and the bridge-and-
tunnel folks only
on the weekends