Writings from all the time I spend on the train

Amy Lipman


Hanging at McDonald’s Before Rehearsal,‘Cuz I Get There So Damn Early: From The Suburbs, Fuckin’ Metra

A gang of small-toothed boys tries to smile at me
I never been where they’ve been
Thirst and spin for where they’re going

Still waking up in those deserts, fall asleep in the sea?
One street, after dark
The fire came out
To
Fly down your ears, ignite the nape your neck
Whisper, “Go now- it’s time you found home”
Lift off or touch down for real live warmth


Sidewalk Cracks, Some Kids Walk Home From School

Your voice sounds like mine
Cracks a home run
Lives underground when nobody’s home


Sitting on the Steps

I haven’t walked like this
Since I learned to walk
Leaving earth behind is my god-given right
Want to be dug up when the world's not ending
My hands scale down canyons
Freedom’s flight fucking bats
In a cage
Discover caves