the Metropolis Rave
(JULY 29, 2015 6:04 PM)
A child looks at this ride the way I wish to.
The wrinkled by now suits are scorning at each other.
Screeching through the bowels of the city, expressing our way, not with the local crowd.
There is a rhythm to our mutually compact public ritual.
We swipe, beep, step, ring, shuffle, stairs, "Closing Doors" over and over, until we hear the call of home.
Dancing through the limbs.
The paradox of convenience in travel.
To what extent can we politely and with copious courtesy tango with strangers under all of this.
The choreography of society, all stepping to the beat, taking turns and taking leads, following and feeling the grooves of the train tracks on the record.
May I have this dance?