Transfer
The tunnels are loud with
Track rumbling and squeaky
Passengers, quick to fill seats
With tense plaids and warm wallets
We bustle and sway, zeroes and ones
On a centipede highway to Du College St.
And St. Louis Avenue
Frozen in subway time
Oblivious to the backward evolution above
Strangers with a common purpose
Bodies in linear motion, minds
Blistered with high speed thought
A static ad for travel whizzes by
And I wonder what would happen
If the world we remembered grew
Too old to recall our faces
And we disembarked to find
A faded landscape
And a new civilization
At the next stop
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