Two Paths (Metro)
Published by OpenDoor Poetry Magazine
“This is a Brooklyn-bound F Local Train. The next stop is…West 4th Street-Washington Square. Stand clear of the closing doors please.”
Sixteen stops between
14th Street and Ditmas Avenue
Is it a coincidence
that the 14th Street Station
on 6th Avenue
showcases the letters F-M-L
proving also that fuckery
is as easy as 1–2–3?
It reminds me of how
Delancey Street-Essex Street
prominently features my initials
J-M-F with the occasional ability to catch Z’s
Every subway ride has a story
Mine is a track with two paths
Empath and sociopath
Two distinct personalities
ride on opposite sides
of a mind going off the rails
They make me wonder
If I’ll ever take the B
to Brighton Beach on a whim
just to be somewhere far away from Staten Island
even for an hour
Or whether I’ll bypass Ditmas on the F
and find Coney Island in places
far more sophisticated than
aspects of my psyche
Or whether catching
a Manhattan-bound Q
at Sheepshead Bay
lets me find words
within alphabetic avenues
scattered through Midwood
Or whether I will still
be embraced by the R
whether bound for MetroTech
or Union Square
Or whether the first five cars on the 1
would trap me in a maze of dyscalculia
Or whether I would take the 7 somewhere
other than Main Street and Roosevelt Avenue
Or whether I would take the 6
and travel back to City Island
Or whether the L will connect me
to my favorite artist congregations of Brooklyn:
Williamsburg
Greenpoint
Bushwick
Park Slope
Or whether I have a job
requiring me to take the
R-A-G to Brooklyn Navy Yard
Or whether I’ll ever see a dinosaur skeleton
after a long ride on the C
Or whether I’ll once again
take the D to Central Park
Or whether I’ll visit Briarwood
taking the E from Ground Zero
like my mother and father once before
Or whether Bay Ridge
still welcomes me
after a long ride on the N
Or whether I’ll ever see
controversial art exhibits
getting off the 2 or 3
at the Brooklyn Museum
Or whether Bowling Green Station
will make me feel less claustrophobic
before I catch the 4 or 5
Or whether the W
is the best train to take
after leaving South Ferry
I’ve ridden every train but the M
for no destination I’ve reached
relied on that letter
I’m still asleep
when the Z runs
It’s still a mystery
if I ever rode any of the Shuttles
Subways are transitions
which alter consciousness
with every transfer
Lines come full circle
and there are diamonds
buried within round trips
Just as I’ve experimented
with altering my state of mind
with plants and fungi containing rainbows
Such has been the case
with the subway
This poem is an alchemy of adversity
expressed in verses I will cross-reference
in MLA, 8th Edition some other time
I am actively taking my trauma
and transmuting it into precious memories
I am finally in a place where I am affirmed
the love between me and New York
is one that is mutual
And whether or not
the alphanumeric spotlights
come in various colors
I am hoping that my role
as a grey wizard
isn’t a haze for rays
And though I was diagnosed as bipolar
I am grateful to exist between dichotomies
Baruch HaShem Bli Ayin Hara
I am grateful
Allow me to reach a middle path
and let me continue to
infuse justice
in the words I
continue to express
May my split personalities
merge in a place where
I can explore myself
with a split-infinitive
To boldly go
anywhere
I can find peace
