Adam Jerome Williams: Desire (Insomnia)

Once, awake in a dark room
four stories above Brooklyn,
I heard, clearly, the voice

of a subway conductor
urging his passengers to be patient,
they would continue soon.

It was late – a light drizzle,
streets deserted, F train buried
deep beneath Church Avenue.

I shook the woman beside me
to ask if she had heard it too,
but all she grasped

was the bell of the doors closing,
the soft rumble
                            of the going away.



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