Subway Ballet

choreographed

without words

by shifting eyes

in transit trance

no relief

compete for seats

while the stoic critic

prefers to stand

a musical chairs

of quiet despair

revolves all around

better

to treat the seats

like Caesar’s crown

and thrice refuse

to sit down

Steerage

crowd-hobbled

rain-slicked platforms

where we scrum

for a place

among the two-legged livestock

bristling angry

pointless

like a neutered gamecock

careless spill of languages

and faces

the same misery

among the mad races

broken down and delayed

resigned to this misery

for the hardened underpaid

cheek by jowl
make our own way

and say a silent vow

of “Someday…”