about is almost

By Ryan Eckes

for some reason                       

the pull is slow



such a morning bus

as if exhausted



faint rumor of enough

grieves continuity



limb from

limb



to get on

with



you

already



a single place

goes on welfare



an anchor drags

iron will past me



we go to jail

for free



raising our vestiges

alone in sob stories



because humble news

will boost pride



respect waits in

formal inertia



restoring the elderly

to i told you so



by the wheel

cause and effect make



en route

empty seats



for some reason

anyway



they advertise "now"

in the terminal



see how sad again

and again can look



from windows

through windows



the el shrugs past

it dozing fates



you trail your gaze from

which you descended



that stranger will

remain a stranger



blind but for your

vessel's nervous din



our rickety schedule

parallel to an alley



shape in motion

the blue line



i pack my own lunch

i am polite to dignity



an enclave is safe

we glide through a tunnel



doors are opening

doors are closing



for a moment what

horror to witness



to suffer address

if our eyes met



could you push me

into my vision's frame



paint a vast brick mural

in the blood of a day



careful to fall w/ out

falling on my face