121. Poetry: Series: Harlem On My Mind: 2: Take The A Train
original poetry
It was 1966 and I was a college student in New York City, at the City College Of New York, in Harlem. ! was dependent on public transit. And on my parents. I was about to grow up.
Take The A Train
©3/23/02srk all rights reserved
1966
My dad left me on the platform of the A train
on my first day of classes. My mother told him,
“Jack, take her.” The truth was
I had never traveled on the train myself.
It was early in the morning
when the Chiclets smiled yellow, red, and green
from the vending machines,
and the bums hunted dimes in the
pay phones.
Then, like science fiction, the train
slowed at the platform and,
the doors slid open and took me in.
Into a car that was strangely empty
for 14th Street in the morning.
I sat in a two-seater with the side of my forehead
leaning against stale glass.
At 42nd Street the doors reeled in
a large man, carrying a camel colored coat over his heavy arm;
he caught me
and wedged me tighter into my corner;
then, a weight,
on my thigh.
Though under the cover of the coat,
his hand was visible in my mind,
and translated into the language of
heat and teeth and claws
and gills and scales; a bottom feeder
at rest, with its red eyes open.
I knew it would be soon
before its pressure
would shift,
and it would
bisect me.
At 59th Street, a crowd entered,
the lights blinked, and in darkness
we sped express to Harlem,
to 125th Street:
I was a small, bivalve urchin, stuck,
snapped shut,
tied down by seaweed and algae,
and drowning in an ocean of fear.
When I saw someone familiar,
my head drained of salt water;
I wiped my eyes,
my shell opened, released me,
I grew legs,
and with a shove,
and a rush
I was at the doors, devoured by a crowd
of other seventeen year olds,
who would trek up the South Campus Hill
and have English 101
for breakfast.
Yahoo comments:
- Sunny…
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When I read your poems, I almost feel like I can read your mind…..amazing! You always take me right back to the places your been, along with you….thank you.
Tuesday January 1, 2008 – 02:52pm (EST) Remove Comment
- Seash…
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Very vivid!
Wednesday January 2, 2008 – 12:14am (EST) Remove Comment
yes – very vivid! i feel i can see the scenes so clearly
Wednesday January 2, 2008 – 05:30pm (EST) Remove Comment
You gripe us with your words and reward us with your courage. Lovely poem!
Wednesday January 2, 2008 – 05:37am (CST) Remove Comment
- Just …
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I take my weekly vacation to another place with every post you write. Thank you for sharing your travels and your life. You are such a wonderful friend
Wednesday January 2, 2008 – 07:18am (CST) Remove Comment
- Nicho…
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Once again, a moment in time, wonderfully captured and encapsulating the memory of that morning. Very vibrant and resonant poetry. thanks for sharing and for hosting!
Thursday January 3, 2008 – 08:50am (EST) Remove Comment
- Janeen
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This was amazing! I was so afraid for you on the train!
Wednesday January 2, 2008 – 10:45pm (EST)
you continue to transport into your life with your words……fascinating! Such talent my friend!
- Jacqu…
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I think it was the fear that this poem invoked in me that kept me from tapping out a hasty comment this morning. In the book Watership Down the author invents the word tharned to describe the rabbits frozen on the road by the head lights of cars bearing down on them. Tharned is such a wonderful word and you described it exactly. Frozen like a limpid to the pilings.
Thursday January 3, 2008 – 04:08pm (MST) Remove Comment
nikinoelle wrote on Jan 1, ’08
Did you write this amazing piece Sans Souci? Pardon me if I’m asking you something that I should already know…and I do love and respect your writing but this poem is so visual (and visceral) I felt like I was the one experiencing my first day commuting on the A Train! This poem is something else!
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lauritasita wrote on Jan 1, ’08
It must’ve been scary taking the subway for the first time if you’re not used to it. I remember taking a regular city bus to high school (they didn’t use school buses-you did this, too) and you had to get a monthly bus pass from homeroom. You got a real look at the city from a bus, too, and it was such a long ride. I still take Matt to the bus stop everyday. While other mothers just drop their kids off, like they’re dropping off clothes at the laundromat, I continued to walk my son to the school. Until one day he said to me, “Mom, I can walk in myself.”
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strongwilledwoman wrote on Jan 1, ’08
Outstanding! Bravo.
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Jan 1, ’08
nikinoelle said
Did you write this amazing piece Sans Souci? Pardon me if I’m asking you something that I should already know…and I do love and respect your writing but this poem is so visual (and visceral) I felt like I was the one experiencing my first day commuting on the A Train! This poem is something else! Every poem in this blog is mine except when indicated otherwise. Thanks!
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Jan 1, ’08
laura1may said
My word! Chiclets! That does take me back. What a horrible squash it must have been, and even worse as you took up more space with time, I expect. I was so young and so frozen–this huge man had me cornered with his hand on my thigh. How sick, and I didn’t know what to do. Several of my poems have to do with outrageous experiences on subway trains. Kind of horrifying how insane the subway was in those days.
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lauritasita wrote on Jan 1, ’08
I wanted to read it again because I missread the part about the big oaf groping you. I just figured that the guy was so big, he squished you. I guess Dad should have gone with you that day.
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philsgal7759 wrote on Jan 1, ’08
You write so well. I could literally imagine the whole scene
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redheadgirl4 wrote on Jan 2, ’08
Wow that slimebag needed to be hit over the head with your bookbag! I love the music to A train, but somehow didn’t get it was a real train. What a vivid description. I am realizing it isn’t just that you write in such a vivid manner, but you have such an amazing memory, with such an attention to detail. I wish I could do that. Thanks for taking us along on that important first ride, and if you ever need me to use my heavy bookbag on some subway jerk, I’m there. Big hugs!!!
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the music is in such contrast to the poem, all the while these terrible things are happening, as it occured I would suppose, no one paying attention… your descriptions are quite moving, carrying the mind of a young girl through a difficult but inevitable event.. great writing
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I know it must have been scary for you and your poem reflects that but I think it was also exciting. And your dad got you ready to be on your own. A quick feel on a crowded subway train is a cheap price to learn about the predators about. I like this but I agree the music while aptly named is a little in-congruent.
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sanssouciblogs wrote on Feb 18, ’08
quinkento said
I know it must have been scary for you and your poem reflects that but I think it was also exciting. And your dad got you ready to be on your own. A quick feel on a crowded subway train is a cheap price to learn about the predators about. I like this but I agree the music while aptly named is a little in-congruent. the incongruency was my intent. Jazz against a moment of terror and then moving out and on…
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sanssouciblogs said
the incongruency was my intent. You succeeded smashing ly! lol
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