Stationary

I haven't written a poem in months, but wanted to give it a try. I suspect I'll probably revise this considerably, but this seems like a good first draft.

_______________

Stationary

Soaking wet

but satiated

Two sets of

two glazed eyes

deliberately present

in a steady downpour

Underneath

the railings

Peering downward

to the station below

Trains demarcate

subdivide

balkanize

Street signs

copy locomotive direction

north or south

east or west

coming or going

We peer over

resting our arms

standing side by side

on a bridge

Bearing the name of a

deceased truck driver

whose rig caught fire

Melting and destroying

the iron supports

At the aqueduct

a few blocks away

a man once plummeted

to his death

sixty years ago

  

A departing train

hauling coal

Builds momentum

nearly blinded by the

strong artificial floodlights

The sound of saturation

discarded wet clothes slapping

against ancient floorboards

Traincars easing towards

unknown destinations