THE RAILROAD TRACKS

on my forearm
ran only one way: in.
No one
got aboard
except me
and my other selves;
that was the point.
It gave us a chance
to know one another
without outside distraction
like air, food, water.

At first
many people tried
to jam in
with us,
but after awhile
it was only us lovers
who waited on the platform.
Some might say
that's just a typical
jerk-off, ego, self-
centeredness, narcissistic,
fucked-up, selfish blah,
blah, blah, etc. etc. etc.
I'd say
it was my way
of relaxing.
I was able
to stretch out
my legs,
and put my feet
upon the facing seat
which was,
blessedly,
empty.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2013