6:36 train to penn station

i carried my eyes in my hands.
shook them like eight balls. 
asking, "do i glow yet?"
everyone became pigeons on the platform.
flocks on the train station's roof.
their iridescent wings flashing signals
to the oldest gods of the island.
you can work so much 
you forget you have a body. i craved
its erasure. ghosts i swept from the stairwell
to our dangling apartment above
the flower shop. the worst thing you can do
is try to plan for the future.
maybe that is just because we are 
the precarity class though. the next week people. 
i open my bank account & consider praying.
pretend i am on my way to something
other than an internship. you can convince yourself
you are close to a break. a moment where
money will not feel like air.  
the blue-purple of the morning
always spreads like a bruise. i miss a person
i think i used to be. i keep pictures 
beneath my tongue. the trash cans
overflow with fingers & wedding rings.
when the train comes, there is a boy
who always takes a picture. he is flushed.
maybe from delight. maybe from horror.
i want to see the album of trains.
each morning, the lirr arrives with all 
its monsters. i let it eat me.
i tell the beast, "spit me out 
when it's all over" & i am not yet sure
what i mean. try for a window seat 
& if not, stand in the flock. 
flash my feathers in the syrupy dawn.
push my eyes into my skull
one at a time.