In the Subway I
A. Leyeles
1918
I
A wall.
A blunt wall of human backs, arms, legs.
A gray bulwark with white round stains.
A defeated army in a cave, before maneuvers,
Waiting for doors to open.
Not cages unlatched, in uproar.
Not rocks upheaved from their ground.
An army senses
The serpentine swaying of a subway
Into a station.
Too few doors.
Too few doors.
Inside—crammed…
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