Subway

It is stuffed full with thick, shapeless coats,

this narrow closet

you’ve been banished to.

Feel your way through the royal

blue mothball-soaked car coat,

the scratchy tasselled poncho,

the soft, frayed jean jacket.

Push back the elegant

camel-hair overcoat,

the black leather jacket,

saddle-raw,

the yellow down parka,

hurry,

as if they were window curtains.

Stubbornly hook

a few inches of territory

on the dull metal pole.

Hang there.

Fence in your homestead.

Look straight ahead.

Stonewall the homesick wrench

you’ve learned to ignore,

the trapped unsung longing for God

that has become your despair.

Turn to face the glass.

Stare critically at the dismal reflections.

Must your miss everything?

The memories of displaced princes.

The secrets of princesses deposed.

Hearts dripping with the juice of apples.

Clouds of gold.