Poem
Barbarese, J. T.
Poem On The 7-Something to Penn Station We walk up to the station. Kids already there snack on the platform, half-eaten morning pastry in their hands, school-bags all over. My kid taps me with...
...Says it's a thimble, says to make sure it doesn't get lost...
...No toilets, so they piss where they are, holding whatever they took, dark teddies, fouled dolls...
...It's important...
...Not to be carried to bed...
...T. Barbarese J. T. Barbarese is the author of "A Very Small World" (Orchises, 2005) and a translation of Euripides, "Children of Herakles...
...They cannot sleep...
...His fourth book of poems, "The Black Beach, " is forthcoming from the University of North Texas Press...
...I keep thinking of her not able to sleep last night...
...My kid taps me with a stick-on earring squeezed onto a toothpaste cap she finds between the train seats...
...I start to tell her the truth but say sure, give it here, and quietly lose it...
...They cannot breathe...
...Sitting up in her bed and trying to count all the stars...
...The box car lurches...
...There is no place to sit...
...Puddled feces on the plank floor, stale breath, people saying prayers...
...The 7-Something pulls away and ratchets east...
...To breathe...
...The car swivels and blinded I see them raised on their fathers' backs...
...Make-believe stars, they count them...
...Sitting high up in the dark, watching the lights on their retinas...
...Sunrise...
Vol. 69 • May 2005 • No. 5
