Originally published in Take Magazine, April 2004
Burrowing
Below the crust
Towards the core
As doors seal
The capsule
Glides towards
Millions
Amidst a shell
Of electronically
Charged ambition,
Defeat,
Hunger,
Starvation.
Blank stares
Wander
Along the trudged
Floor
Grease smudged
Windows
Musty air
Always avoiding
Blank stares.
Asian
Bible readers
With raver pants
Six-months pregnant
With a receding hair line
Who haven’t shaved in years
Spend
To carry them back
Towards a Tuesday morning
Only to emerge defiant
In the face of terror
Relying
Upon the beauty
Unveiled behind the tough exterior
Of the blonde law student
Perhaps it is sad.
But she may
Erase
The terror of my moment
May keep me in this capsule
Until I can ask
For her name
Thus the beauty
Of the rumbling
Tumbling
Ways of transit
Burrowed beneath
Prideful
Defenses
If only for a minute
For a minute is all we had
For a minute is all we have
Rumbling with pop icons
Rumbling without
Shoulders to cry on
Rumbling on towards Babylon.
She will study to be
Enlightened
The old lady will continue to be
Frightened
When that which is different
Next to her
Sits down
We are all different
But when
We stop
We are scared
The underlying thought
Is there.
The tunnel rumbles
Back and forth
Towards chaos
The tunnel rumbles
Back and forth
From
Chaos.
