Railing

Who is the ghost that walks the train?

The apparition tugs on our shirt sleeves

But all rides are displaced

We are logged into otherness,

Password protected

Our faces dug deep into ourselves

Reflections fed to us

Wires from out our ears

Wi-Fi, stuck in our gut

Download speeds of the central nervous system.

Our spines reverberate myriads of chatter.

A silent rustle, instilling itself

Convincing us without us ever knowing

How important we are compared to

All other representations of knowing

While we are in the midst of knowing.

It’s called automatic updates

 

The train moves automatically

We are in a moving bubble…..and

From the windows see sprawl

Hurling past us………………tame trees

Surly lawns, hybrid bushes

Dotted between office buildings

Who give out loans, advice, and massages,

Fast food made to look like good food

Good food made to look like fast food

We look to make it home, safe

To pass through concrete stops embedded

With glitter and tactile paving

Ghost, ghouls, and the sleepless.

All stops are washed down, nightly

To make sure everything is clean

 

We wait for our stop, or stops

Trapped in by the prerecorded

Professional voicings of destinations

Which are never really stops

Just representations of stops.

Glued to our world, the rails

We read in glorious fonts….about

Long-gone idiots and fools, ghosts.

We are fascinated

about the sky

How its falling

Why its falling

Why it should fall

What we should do when it falls

If it didn’t fall

There wouldn’t reason.

Reasons….

For us to be living it up

 

 

We could ride forever like this

We will ride forever like this

On this train that gets us to work

Takes us back home again

Between murders and wars

Youtube and hookup sites

These things that record us

Splinter meaning into twos

until all movement becomes reaction

To representations (ghosts) of

The electricity that sings about

Who we think we are

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21 Responses to Railing

  1. Phil Huston says:

    “until all movement becomes reaction” and we learn to ignore the cosmic radio that sings of who we really are…

    Like

  2. Izrael says:

    Lovely. Just lovely. ❤

    Like

  3. Peri Dwyer Worrell says:

    Nailed it. Beautiful.

    Like

  4. Ralph says:

    “The electricity that sings about, Who we think we are” Wow ! Now that says a lot about society today. Well done (as usual).

    Like

  5. Deep observations pinned down beautifully.

    Like

  6. Cindy Harris says:

    Very insightful! Thank you for sharing.

    Like

  7. vivachange77 says:

    Amazing capturing of an imbedded slice of our culture – or should I say entrained.

    Like

  8. Very nice. I’m going to have to read that a few more times to really appreciate it.

    Like

  9. We would love you to send us six photos to be featured on our site. Please let us know if you are interested. Thank you. David

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  10. mrsorenson says:

    Yes, Lovely except that it is a poem putting into the sky the fireworks that say, Technology is dead and killing us.

    Like

    • Elan Mudrow says:

      I’m definitely not saying “technology is killing us” That would be way too simple and incorrect. The whole of the aesthetics of literature entangles the reader and the author with the ideas of representation from Plato to Derrida. I’ll leave you with that to ponder.

      Like

  11. Ali Grimshaw says:

    An amazing slice of life reflection. I can relate. The speed at which we live daily. There are gifts and challenges to every new technology. I am getting off the train tomorrow to spend time in nature. I always appreciate your writing. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

    Like

  12. nancee says:

    I love this.

    Like

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