Being true by default

 

 

Mostly I can’t remember,

Faces pressed upon steamy mirror glass

Eyes buried in folds of flesh

 

I try to reason it out

As I watch trains go by me

With mannequins in each window

 

They must sit them there when the train starts

And let them find their own way back

It must be hard being no one at all

 

Two trains pass here every single day

One going up, one coming down

The same flaccid faces looking out of both

 

Newspaper neatly wrinkled like drapes

As if they could read or would want to

Yet it’s something to do, staring at print

 

Sometimes, they can’t see me

The trees at thick as pine with the speed of the train

I am an illusion, created by distance

 

I am one of those who have been left behind

The impact of the default button automatically pushed

All faces look the same in the blur

 

Sometimes, I sit and count the train cars

and how over time they seem to dwindle

fewer blank faces to choose from

 

All a blur of motion, all faces becoming invisible

Until only one face remains, by default

Staring out at the constant blur, free forever.

 

(1979 revised 2012)