"And it rained all night and washed the filfth away Down New York airconditioned drains The click click clack of the heavy black trains A million engines in neutral ......"
People scurry down the dark chute that will eventually suck them in and devour their energy. There is a bright glint of light coming in through the grille-teeth and the gaping mouth up the stairs. Bank of two escalators and a very sunken staircase in the middle vein down. The staircase makes midgets out of people when you look at them from the elevated escalators. I have a $76, monthly, unlimited pass that I swipe in the multiple-hand turnstile and with a metallic beep, it gestures me to go inside it.
Several exits, too many entrances too, yet the jostling. They won’t let you walk in your time. They want you to hurry, to rush, to move-it or they’ll find their ways through you, push you down/away, trip you and when you fall, they will crush you with their high heeled Manolo Blahnik, flat soled Nikes or Payless slippers, nonetheless batter you till you succumb. And sometimes offer you hand after they make you crumble….
NY subway: 63rd ST, Lexington Avenue, Manhattan.
People pocketed portions of the scorching sun, hovering like a bad omen outside and dumped it haphazardly in this underground tunnel. Passengers awaiting the last train sat at the plywood seats and left them warm from human-contact; now the bench bolsters four people, two hours prior to the evening Rush, the high of getting home, marking the end of another work day and calling it quits till the next morning...
The woman next to me has this upper-east side air about her with her pearls, beaver hat, French manicure, and elongated fingers fanning with a hand-painted fan…. The fall air has no way of getting down here, yet the woman exudes the fragrance of autumn flowers, probably the tinge of maple yellow. The sweaty man on my left reads the NY Globe…Sweat and Sweet talc merge.
The monster sized rats bustle in between the tracks, nibbling on the scraps, wrappers and plastic bags. One can’t figure them out if they don’t look long enough; they are camouflaged by the dark underground earth. Silhouetted against the blackness of the black iron tracks breed the mutated subway mice that dont know natural light. Right before rush hour, when the local trains run slow, sits beside me a woman who smells of autumn, a sweaty man who causes a ripple in that diffusion of scent and right ahead of me, in burrows and in between the track are, mice; dashing past one another, knocking each other down, some bleeding and others feeding on that blood.
Man and Beast coexist below ground level in striking resemblance and harmony….
NY subway: 63rd ST, Lexington Avenue, Manhattan.
People pocketed portions of the scorching sun, hovering like a bad omen outside and dumped it haphazardly in this underground tunnel. Passengers awaiting the last train sat at the plywood seats and left them warm from human-contact; now the bench bolsters four people, two hours prior to the evening Rush, the high of getting home, marking the end of another work day and calling it quits till the next morning...
The woman next to me has this upper-east side air about her with her pearls, beaver hat, French manicure, and elongated fingers fanning with a hand-painted fan…. The fall air has no way of getting down here, yet the woman exudes the fragrance of autumn flowers, probably the tinge of maple yellow. The sweaty man on my left reads the NY Globe…Sweat and Sweet talc merge.
The monster sized rats bustle in between the tracks, nibbling on the scraps, wrappers and plastic bags. One can’t figure them out if they don’t look long enough; they are camouflaged by the dark underground earth. Silhouetted against the blackness of the black iron tracks breed the mutated subway mice that dont know natural light. Right before rush hour, when the local trains run slow, sits beside me a woman who smells of autumn, a sweaty man who causes a ripple in that diffusion of scent and right ahead of me, in burrows and in between the track are, mice; dashing past one another, knocking each other down, some bleeding and others feeding on that blood.
Man and Beast coexist below ground level in striking resemblance and harmony….
3 comments:
"in burrows and in between the track are, mice; dashing past one another, knocking each other down, some bleeding and others feeding on that blood..." - I'm soo gonna quote that somewhere...
you would?! :S
yuuuuuuuuuuuuukkkkkkkkkkk, i hate mice..............yuuuuuuuukkkkkkkkkkkk and they are drinking blood................wakkkkkk, i dont like this one at all....
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