it is early morning
on freezing brooklyn streets
under a gray sky
beside crooked brown stained tenements
there are human shapes
leaning against the cold
moving quickly
towards the train station
on the bleak horizon
the fallen snow
that had covered everything
in a soft white bing crosby
christmas song
now became
hard sharp shards
of dirty ice
on wooden crates
rotting garbage
dead cats
somewhat exposed
and at each crossing
torrents of freezing flowing slush
ankle deep
blocked the way
wind cut through my thin coat
frozen water and blowing snow
slid down my neck
from the fire escapes above
I heard the train
approaching the elevated station
rockaway ave
in a roar of shaking tracks
showers of sparks
in clouds of blowing snow
and the screeching of brakes
on metal wheels
I fought against the numbing cold
and earsplitting sounds
to get there in time
my heart pounded
the thought of missing that train
and waiting for the next
on a freezing station platform was crazy
the train roared into the station
that was packed
with shaking bodies
when the doors slid open
we pushed into the cars
against the crowd of people
already inside
no one said anything
no sounds of anger
just groans of resignation
bodies in heavy winter coats
pressed against each other
staring at nothing
hiding really
looking like a boxcar to Auschwitz
and the numbing cold became
a hot stinking stench
when the doors slammed shut
I dimly hoped for a pretty girl
or a heavily breasted woman
to lean up against
the lights blinked on and off
as the car jerked forward
then stopped
sliding doors slammed open again
then slammed shut
someone stuck in the door
the train lurched again
shuddered
stopped
the doors opened and shut again
then it roared away
the person was inside
I hoped
screeching screaming shuddering cars
lurched around a wide turn
throwing all those
without a strap to hold on to
against walls
doors
poles
each other
on the people sitting
curses
moans heard
the train shuddered into
a chattering glide
as it approached the next station
I saw through the train window
what looked like every jew in brownsville
on the platform waiting
but there was no room inside
the doors slammed open
in anger
it sounded like
the new crowd
shoved pushed grappled
fought their way inside
I couldn't move
barely breathe
and for sure now
the doors could never close
but they did
with people stacked
like chopped wood
the subway train hurtled forward
swooped down into a tunnel
all the lights went off
the roaring shaking banging
and screeching
became more intense
as the sound bounced
off the tunnels tile walls
I stood in the darkness
expecting to die
with everyone
stuck against each other
in our winter coats sweaters hats
no one said anything
this is the way it is
to get to work
why complain
who would listen anyhow
this is the way it is
-RB
