god On The Morning Local

I saw him on the local train during rush hour,
a newspaper cone of peanuts in his hand,
smiling at me through a web of weary limbs
and disenchanted heads,
a lesser god with a stubble and sad eyes.

Is this chance, I asked him, or fate,
or is there no difference?
he shrugged like a basement programmer
who had written a game with a million possibilities,
one thing leads to another, he said,
didn’t you want to see me?
how can I win or at least not lose,
I was begging,
five peanuts later he asked,
who decides if it is victory
or defeat?

Through the window I saw life
like a flip book,
one snapshot after the other,
each alive for a cry and a
half turn of the wheel,
each moment, each frame,
dying and born as the next,
meaning nothing by itself,
leading nowhere by itself,
he was watching me, still eating,
this is my stop, he said softly,
your station’s next.

I followed him to the exit,
we left a bird behind,
then a cloud,
then the sun,
then him,
I shrugged,
me and a square of sky for a half wheel
and the peanuts he handed me,
one thing leads to another.

Also in this series: At the corner café
Advertisements

45 thoughts on “god On The Morning Local

  1. Very good piece of writing, I especially enjoyed your 2nd stanza with its questions, possibilities and answer. Clever how the answer is in the form of a question. ……who decides if it is victory
    or defeat?……….

    Like

  2. This is beautifully evocative!💘 Especially love; “Is this chance, I asked him, or fate, or is there no difference? he shrugged like a basement programmer who had written a game with a million possibilities, one thing leads to another, he said, didn’t you want to see me? how can I win or at least not lose, I was begging, five peanuts later he asked, who decides if it is victory or defeat?”💘

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sometimes – all one can say is WOW! this is one such time… especially love the existentially open ending “one thing leads to another.” Brilliant piece of writing and thinking.

    Like

  4. WOW! “each frame,
    dying and born as the next,
    meaning nothing by itself . . . ”
    The chance meeting in normal circumstances totally fits this flip book life. I’m glad, though, that the moving train is part of it, as we are alive and moving between the impressions and the memories and the times we must cry out our what and why and “how can I win or at least not lose?”

    Like

    1. Thanks Bjorn… just for some context… we get a lot of peanut vendors here, especially during the season, carrying baskets of salted peanuts, selling them wrapped in newspaper… a popular snack!

      Like

Please leave a Thot...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s