Every Body Running Poem by James McLain

you know it
and long since have
it is why
you ride the train
it is only
four blocks out of your way
but when
and only when
and then
the stress is too much at play
and you
do
it is alleyways full
packed full and standing up
room is the
and when the train is moving as it does
and the skirt is always
as in premeditated
and it is then
that the knuckles
grow white on the pole
as the train moves when it moves
and even the moon when full
is deft
moved aside
and thinks
and things i know not of
off into things'
i grow full of
and it clenched
when and only when
i assume it is
and my knees, my knees
and my legs
and the shudder gives him away
and though out the window
the sun
i watch every body running
to get on.