bullet

we rock over the tracks like a heartbeat
of the steel bullet aimed at the heart of
the city

the disheveled student to my left
fumbles to keep his thoughts
from splaying across the floor like sheets of paper
the blonde beauty stands composed like a symphony
arm twined around the smeared pole like the clef of an ottava bassa
and the man with sunglasses by the sliding door
pretends to read yesterday’s news

my friends are my blanket
we flit like a school of fish through the echoing station
shuffle one by one onto the metro
they surround me now, laughing
i stare hard at the map of the tracks
senseless weavings of red, yellow, blue
our paths will split, our paths will split

that line of blue, there, that’s the one
it will carry me to a large gray station
empty except for an old man with a cane sitting solitary on a bench
a crumpled newspaper fluttering across the cement like a butterfly
a large cracked laminated sign that reads
“Arlington National Cemetery”

it will be strange
to reduce her gentle hands, the humming voice,
the pen-thin wrists and afternoon snuggling
to a cold white stone in the grass

there, the beauty has gathered
herself closer to the pole
an automated voice announces the impending stop
the whole world leans forward, then straightens again
the man clears his throat and exits
the student shoves his work into his bag

they have surrounded me, these friends
they press so close that i don’t need a pole or seat
i put my hand on one’s back, just to feel their presence
they are laughing at something one said,
they are preparing to go to dinner

here is my junction, we stumble to a stop.
the door slides open, all is immediate
i drape a handkerchief of light brushing fingers on one's arm
push myself in swift strides through the door
i freeze on the platform, for just a moment
for just a moment, i suddenly realized
no one else was coming.
i turn and stare
at my friends all crammed inside the doors
holding ropes and poles and walls
and they stare back.
they are forever different, we both realize
but only for a moment

the intercom dings and i am recomposed
i gather my thoughts like paper notes
turn sharply and march towards the flashing screen i cannot read
they watch me through the dirty windows
until the bullet clasps shut
and fires once again