Tag Archives: train


prose or poems.

o’holy find love!

move toward a goal.

what was that she said?

stop now.

maybe not.



drugs. drugs. drugs.

stop now.

what did I say to you?

I miss the mother and son who sat behind me, my seatmate, the comfort.

No one makes noise from Roc to Cuse. The Lady who took my seat eats

crackers quietly and rubs her finger tips in the aisle. She flips vanity fair reading

the ads and plows another cracker into her beaked face.

15 minutes till noon, when I’ll allow myself to start drinking the booze I brought along in my bag.

9-10 more hours until Boston. I bought the ticket, I’ll take the ride.

she refuses to

hold conversation. I hope

they sell bottled wine.

All stops went quick, hoping to get into Boston early. Slept from Albany to  Schenectady.

Too many hits of tequila in the bathroom. Just left Springfield, headed toward Wooster.

Had noodles and coffee to burn off some liquor. Both were terrible.

Dinner lady, forty something, black and from Chicago.

Hope to find a sandwich shop in Portsmouth and a good coffee and maybe flowers.

I want time to sit and enjoy a Marlboro.


Filed under sangretti

Getting Off

Getting off at Harold square
At 330 am
Coming up out of the dark tunnels
From the Q train

the lights are bright
From the skyscrapers
And overbearing billboards
Assaulting your nervous system

Radiating the city smell
Of urine, hotdogs, metallic
And ozone
Assaulting your respiratory system

As the sleepless city loud
homeless, drunk,
And impatient drivers
Assault your hearing

From the Q train
Coming up out of the dark tunnels
At 330 am
Getting off at Harold square

I don’t give a thought to any of it
Just want to get this woman back
To the Penn hotel
Before she changes her mind


Filed under Mr. Stacker