Wednesday, November 23, 2016


All our protagonist can say now
about last night is—

there was the sting of cold
rain, and that certain luckless

tang that emanates
from all hectic laundromats, and then

suddenly, when
Tom Petty's Free Fallin' came

piped in on shuffle—
his life became,

in the instant when he was
walking past the Blue Line,

such an enmeshed blend
of The Bittersweet and The Cinematic

that his only options
were—to either

step right in front of
the very next train coming,

or else to get on it
and head downtown.

And yes, looking back, he can
sort of see see how

that almost sounds like an act
of rebellion—

but it didn't feel at all like that
to him at the time, since

he knew it wasn't
the first—or even close

to the last
of its kind.