Drunk On The Irt Subway Poem by David McLansky

Grinning at an inward thought
That nightly tumbles on your wet caked lips
You mock the outward universe
And who's to say I blame you.

Shabby in an old man's coat
Booted black in derelicts
You wake to see the station number
Eyes twisting 'round in fear

Stung drunk against the subway door
You argue with your inner devils
Numbly closing your eyes upon the sun
To sleep the inward pain within
To sleep the inward pain without