Gum Street

Pavement polka dotted with gum and melted rubber

I descend into the tunnels

And remember my quack

Telling me,

Turn your rabbit hole

Into a pothole.

A woman in the station tells me she is going to jump

So I hold on tight and wait to die.

The train comes and a man in a red shirt grabs her

I tell him, this is my train, and he nods

In the direction of the open doors.

The rest of my ride I stare

At one page in my book

And wonder if she was bluffing.