J. Elizabeth Clark

~*~

Subway Analogies

Smell of the homeless man’s raw, bleeding feet is to
coiffed older woman wearing a fake-diamond Christmas tree pin

as baby in stroller with medical tube taped to her nose, draping down her shoulder is to
woman engaged in head bobbing, chest-thumping, seated in an unseasonal straw hat.

Force the commonalities:  put the oppositional elements together—

Perhaps the socialite will drop a fifty for a pair of shoes
in the homeless man’s lap.  I cannot stop watching

the baby’s labored breathing.  I have to stop
breathing in rhythm to her small, struggling chest.

A woman tries to distract her with a small stuffed clown, wiggling him
back and forth, his arms waving desperate, limp happiness,

scraping his soft hands down her cheeks.  My heart catches each time he falls against
her face, hoping he won’t get tangled in the tube, an accidental yank and twinge.

The baby’s face turns dark with rage as she yells “mommy, mommy!”
The socialite turns her head, the homeless man closes his eyes,

and the straw-hatted woman looks up and waves before
returning to the rhythmic prayer beating against her body.

~*~

Contributors' Notes : Hives and Covens : Womb Poetry Home