The Acela from Penn to Back Bay
By Tim Fletcher
I shuffle in my seat
In the passengers lounge
The train delayed 2 hours
With no explanations
And contemplate the ways
To kill the time stream
BBC through VPN
Bemoan the American
Transport system
And watch distractedly
A woman mumble and
Joke to herself through
Mouthfuls of fried
Chicken sucked from
Grey wet bones
Stream moan watch
And watch the minutes
Crawl until the train
Arrives and on we load
Each of us in-
discrete and groaning
At the clicker man
‘What’s with the delay?’
‘Puhlice incident outside’ah Bultamor’
I unbag my Collected Plath
And hold it upright
In plain sight
As I read and
Exaggerate my nasal
Exhalations so my intellect is known
But no one bats an eye
And I am restless in my seat
I go up and down
Past old men thinking
Hard past ladies laughing
To the café car for
Round after round
Of Dunkin’ coffee
Dairyland 18% and Splenda
In overlarge polystyrene
That squeaks
Against my teeth
As we bend
The foaming bite
Of Niantic Bay
That binds and breaks
Connecticut
Past run down
Ferry houses offering
Trips across the sound
And somewhere before
Providence
I google
train delay baltimore police
And turn your thinking
Through my head
And start to reason why
You put yourself
Under the wheels
Outside of Baltimore.
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