One Year To Life On The Grand Central Shuttle

If we hate the rush hour subways

who ride them every day

why hasn’t there been a New York City Subway Riot

some bloody rush-hour revolution

where a snarl

goes on from push to a shove

that does not stop

at the platform’s edge

the whining of automated trains

will drown out the screams

of our bloody and releasing testament

to a last chance or hope of change.

But hope is counter-revolutionary.

Pressure cooks

but we have not exploded

flowing in and out instead each day

like a half-digested mass

for a final stake impales our dreams

and watering down each trip’s fury

is the someday foolish hope

that at the next stop

some door will open for us

to fresh air and light and home.

When we realize how

much of us is spent

in rush hour subways

underground

no real exit

it will matter less

what token we pay

for change.