"twin high mantience machines"
jd

the mass of my body against t he clear glass of a commuter train window
strainging thru the dark to see
a train from the east, for freight:grain, chemicals, oil--

for a second, its not a race
the stronger holds its weight to the weaker

there is no rushing by

and i am between two trains,
i am pushing my body as far as it can

my belly feels the cold, and i have to back off
every so foten, clearing the window with my hand

the two trains together
and my body and the glass together

the commuter train stops
the freight train rushes to
the orange slag that crowns
georgian and english bays

my body moves on its own accord
down the steps and out the door

in the subterranina darkness
i hear the train, the sarnia to vancouver,
rumbling over me

i am deep below the water
drowning in the slag and filth
the grain pours over me

i rest in the concrete
till the train moves past me

walking out of the doors
up the stairs
climb on a bus

home