Life on the Line

Life on the Line

The Tuesday sun

set and carried with it,

the lies of New York and

a thousand broken dreams.

The broken pieces fell

together in the bars

and bedrooms of the city:

Glue is another fairytale.

I let the sorrow wash

over me like fine whiskey

across my tongue and stared

out the window at the passing city.

The train car couplers creaked

and groaned in a sad staccato.

A preview of the death rattle

waiting in the distance.

SMG