Metro Voyeurs

Feet planted on the metro platform
shoulders arch backwards, absorb heat
from radiant LED lights through clear glass
tiles, await an onslaught of subway winds
that lift paper debris like Kansas homes
in the eye of a tornado, tousle our hair, suck
safehouse stillness of the underground tube.
Grinding steel wheels shoot sparks above tracks,
glowing like meteors, piecing our Ray-Bans
as they brighten the abyss with flickering showers.
We cherish those moments when friction ignites
fireworks, so we thrust our hips forward in awe
& supplication, daring nature’s laws to contort
our teenage frames that anticipate journeys
neither civil nor demented. Travels begin & end
though automatic doorways; we watch them slide
open & close—listen to air brakes hissing, squealing.
Strangers wave at us though passenger windows
our backs slip to the ground ere they rescale walls;
reset, we bask in a codified stance—ritualized…fixed—
before we ascend cement steps, rise to the surface
like earthworms after a lengthy spring rain,
trade the grimy kiss of mass transit system gusts
for twilight’s slight precipitation, accept our Lazarus
moniker amongst family, friends & foes, savoring
dark pitch, knowing our breathing shrouds belong
inside the netherworld of a metro sepulcher.