train held between 23rd & 34th st

we saw a rat the size of god.
i removed all the bones 
from my feet. the power went out
& we reverted back 
to candles. the sun, a forgotten thing.
i saw a solar eclipse when i was little.
we watched out a friend's playroom window.
you can invent memories. i am not sure
if this is one of those. watching
as a great dark circle slide across the sun
like a lid over a jar of strawberry jam.
darkness falling over a toy castle.
we're also mostly plastic. 
our parts are not safe for children.
all the "you"s i usually employ in a poem
jumped out the window & like a bird
i sang "i i i." until i was full
of fog. a delay is never simple 
in a matrix of rails. this train
eats the next train. above 
there was no more city. in the future 
i am trying to smoke on the porch
of a house in the country.
the leaves are changing. the only train
is a steam engine for sight-seeing.
the tourist in me is always hoping
for a new ticket. grasping
the silver pole descending 
from any given ceiling. 
why didn't we hold each other? what makes
another body a stranger? 
tin can full of sardine people. 
don't talk to lamp posts or midnights.
a man hummed as if we were all
harmonica columns. what will we do
when we escape? grasped for schedules.
i am already 
yearning for the past where
the sun is blotted out &
i stare at a small army. 
take me back down. i need to worship.

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