RIDING NJ TRANSIT

I wonder if others wonder the way I do

                when staring out the window, close to narcoleptic sleep

about the trash lining the tracks

and what that weathered plastic bottle contained

                before it emptied, aged, and yellowed

                lost its label in a series of rainstorms

Whose hand did it leave to come to rest

                for eternity beside the track

or will that bottle ever reach another hand again

                this time as trash---evil�"

not its own fault, but that of our own perception

Will any hand ever hate it enough to care?

--Who came to this place, (why this place?)

                to mark that ignored and purposeless structure

                with a name, or slang, or sign

paint can and bottle, discarded brothers

                but the can knows, remembers its purpose

                as the evidence remains

And though the hand that left the can

                knew that eyes would behold its art

                it still seems left with no intent

And no one talks about it�"

                the bottle,

                the can,

                the bulbous letters

What is there to say?

but I refuse not to wonder.                               

Reviews

[Deuces]

As a Native New Yorker, I know all about riding the NJ Transit :) This was very relatable to me, as I also wonder of the history and stories of inanimate objects. Very cool write. Keep posting!

[Penny Lane]

Thank you! I appreciate your feedback. I'm glad to know there are others who think the way I do!

[zainul]

It is a nice work.
Appreciate your conversation.

[Penny Lane]

Thank you! I appreciate your feedback!

[zainul]

You are most welcome!