The Subway

It suppose it could be symbolic that I go down the steps when I leave the ivory tower. I balk at this stratified metaphor but in many ways, it’s true.

I cringe because I know the people who live and are below, are people and sometimes those above look down, or worse, they ignore.

Most of the time I do neither, I just play angry birds.

I like the balance these worlds give me, or at least I like to hope it gives me balance.

During the day I sit in study spots and people use words like “problematic” or “reification.” I’m not always sure what these words mean.

But then when I descend the train platform onto the street a crowd of callers mumble the words “works, works, works”, or “box”, or loosie, loosie.” I don’t know exactly what these words mean either but I know what these guys are saying.

I see parents with kids, commuters, people going to and fro, living life, and on the walk home I also see human feces.

My day is filled with people doing better than me and people doing worse. They are all people. The other night I walked past a man on a stoop slumped over. he mumbled something at me and when I looked down to see what he was saying I saw the syringe fall from his hand. I thought about it, about him, but I kept walking.

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1 Comment

Filed under people, places

One response to “The Subway

  1. Good post Dalyn. The city does indeed have its lessons. Yesterday I had the chance to serve a young man born at 26 weeks with CP and other complications. He is now 8, has beaten the odds thus far but continues to have many health issues and now self mutilates… I left being grateful for the healthy children I’ve been blessed with and amazed at this young man’s mother and her incredible strength. I felt like I was hit by a 2×4 once again, reminded of how small my problems are…

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