Poetry Drawer: Five Poems by Joan McNerney

“A” train

brassy blue
electric

close eyes
watch points
like stars

think now
how insignificant
compared to train
speaking for itself

stars known
in no language
burn shoot
thru
tiger’s eyes

brain in
constant action
reaction

to what we do not know
plans of distant stars
galaxies floating as

“A” train
silver worm
slides under
big belly
of city

Fear

Sneaks under shadows lurking
in corners ready to rear its head
folded in neat lab reports charting
white blood cells over edge running wild.

Or hiding along icy roads when
day ends with sea gulls squalling
through steel grey skies.

Brake belts wheeze and whine
snapping apart careening us
against the long cold night.

Official white envelopes stuffed with
subpoenas wait at the mailbox.
Memories of hot words burning
razor blades slash across our faces.

Fires leap from rooms where twisted
wires dance like miniature skeletons.
We stand apart inhaling this mean
air choking on our own breath.

Eleventh Hour

Wrapped in darkness we can
no longer deceive ourselves.
Our smiling masks float away.
We snake here, there
from one side to another.
How many times do we rip off
blankets only to claw more on?

Listening to zzzzzz of traffic,
mumble of freight trains, fog horns.
Listening to wheezing,
feeling muscles throb.
How can we find comfort?

Say same word over and over
again again falling falling to sleep.
I will stop measuring what was lost.
I will become brave.

Let slumber come covering me.
Let my mouth droop, fingers tingle.
Wishing something cool…soft…sweet.
Now I will curl like a fetus
gathering into myself
hoping to awake new born.

Long Haul Driver

At first he was thrilled by the road
thinking it an adventure to roam
through states and cities. His truck
this massive 18 wheeler winding
through overpasses, snake like
gleaming in sunlight across
ten lane highways.

But then he had to drive
so many hours arriving
only to wait for the next
work order, inhaling fumes
in the cold and in the heat.

Later he felt a slave to the
never ending engine and ugly
concrete. The same signs
everywhere, big box stores,
eating holes and truck stops
with cheap souvenirs.

Weary of this relentless surge of
everything always going forward,
feeling left behind.

riding dark horse nightmare

to prison library
where sewer
backs up flooding
cages of books
my brains are washed
by a short scientist

detectives trail me
arrested by police
giving up to
handcuffs ether

now on train
calendars peel
off cars
1942   1962   1982
2198   1892   1294
passengers screaming
screaming off track
burning 3rd rail

in swamp struggling
to reach green reeds

i   am    a
fixed target
paper duck
*pull trigger*fire pin*thru barrel*into muzzle*
b u l l e t                      s h o t
paper duck
mowed down.

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