monday 25 feb (morning)

second compartment
upper deck, towards the back
overhead fluorescent burned out

light from a sun still enjoying too much its winter vacation
struggling to push through the green-tinted windows
washing my corner with a glow akin to
acts of god or industrial negligence

higher brain functions still scattered
skittering around like a child’s bag of marbles
shaken onto the floor of the second compartment

i stretch to flip the switch on the (remarkably) functional
reading light, bringing focus to today’s leftovers
sports, business, weather go quickly in the second compartment,
leaving only the news

Iraqi suicide bomber kills 40 on religious pilgrimage
Meatpacker in cow-abuse scandal may shut down
Young Serb killed in embassy riot shared his nation’s rage of U.S.

nausea rolls in, marbles coalescing in a back corner of the second compartment
lost in the shadow of a passenger bench
as i struggle to absorb, to comprehend, to forge meaning
out of the random non-randomness

i catch myself tracking the green snow-encrusted forest
silently whooshing by
outside the second compartment

look into the distance
mom used to say
for heaven’s sake, if you’re feeling motion sick
look into the distance

i wish i could
believe me, i've tried
it doesn’t help the nausea

right now, what i really need
is for the Ritalin to kick in
and put my mind back
into the second compartment