once or twice,
strikes abrupt like a whistle on a train
or the hiss of a snake under peril
i'm not in danger of myself anymore,
this is a comfort and a luxury.
still i find myself heaving out of breath
wondering how the hell i got this far
as if i'd have any luck asking some stranger
who happens to walk past me
if he knows which way the supermarket is
and if they sell water without gas
and pretend i don't notice when he stares at me
and knows i'm in an unfamiliar place
and fights the urge to laugh
god help me
i'm the only one on this train
and it's full of people who do the same song and dance
every monday through friday.
sometimes i think my soul is a prisoner set free,
perpetually confused which way to go
or how to live freely.
doing its own little song and dance
year after year
as though some unfamiliar place might change the melody