Richard Lattimore (1906-1983)
The later the train was at every station,
the more people were waiting to get on.
and the fuller the train got, the more time it lost,
and the slower it went, all night, station to station,
the more people were on it, and the more people
were on it, the more people wanted to get on it,
waiting at every twilight midnight and half-daylight
station, crouched like runners, with a big suitcase
in each hand, and the corridor was all elbows armpits
knees and hams, permessos and per favores, and a suitcase
always blocking half the corridor, and the next station
nobody got off but a great many came aboard.
When we came to our station we had to fight to get off.
Monday, July 16, 2007
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from Writing Poems by Robert Wallace
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