Paris Metro.  

the metro
veins of the city
down there,
its tongues and sweat and closeness

in the tunnel
a grizzled old man with a tin sax
howls yesterday
while a young muslim
taps a xylophone prayer

boy and girl share some tongue
no one notices
it happens everywhere
so he goes up her skirt

middle-aged woman
looking out the window
devastating in her orange robe
and dior slippers
how does one handle
falling in love every eight seconds?

old man
with rotting armpits
and a suitcase
filled with meat
how does one handle
the stink?

child cries
candy from a stranger makes silence
save the screech of the rail
and the shimmy of the train

outside
doves fly from marble
crows escape from asphalt
love and chartreuse burn the streets
as rain falls in a cup

© 2006 Mike Gravel