Flames Of Waiting Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

In the deep
basement,
a train station
rumbles
and whirrs,

a heavy air
flapping its stretchy,
murmuring
wings, its feathers

those glances
darted
from passenger
to passenger

and to a cream
cloudy air
bright light
cannot rip through.

Rails carry trains
grinding in
with heavy legs
tramping on
humming rails.

(ii)

She's been
waiting here
for a year-
stretched hour

swallowing
her rusty feet,
butchering
her knotty calves.

Splitting her
arthritic spine
into drips of pain

running
with a hare's claws
and crawling
down her legs
with stinging wasps,

as a buzzing
bee shows up,

the next train
rattling to
a wobbling stop.

(iii)

The limping train
staggers for
an aborted take-off

full of quakes
and hammered jerks,
her broken back

taking in nails
and drilled-in
sharp-toothed pins.

Her sinking spine
galloping
to numbed toes

and heat-scarred soles,
as a fire grips her
waist with the gorilla

nails of a clawing,
blazing pain
roaring into flames

that devour her
into a swoon's
slowly sinking tight grip.