Perfectly Controlled Sectors

A world without elasticity
builds long memories in my dreams.

The world of having a job,
riding a train,
dreaming of retirement.

As I come in and see the
tall buildings.

Every second in time, I see,
this gets more and more
attuned.

The manner in which this is
all
broken into
perfectly controlled sectors
I cannot count.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin

Commuter Train

I have seen her breasts
pressed in between
blouses and heaven,
viewed her wedding ring
turn magazine pages
in the reflection of the
window,

going south on her
morning train
away from her husband,
suburban home, and
children,

into the city for gray rooms,
stale breath, business reports,
and the remnant of
what was human,

going south on her
morning train.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin