I felt sick on the train
Again
Today.
Nausea creeping up past my diaphragm
Choking my view of a borrowed Metro.
Why on the train?
Why
Not
While breathing, eating, sleeping, speaking
On the incessant ‘phone?
Full fathom five
My theory lies
In a suspicion (held for years)
That only when I’m truly alone –
“The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
petals on a wet, black bough” –
Does reality jolt
Squarely
Home.
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