Another Cinquain in Which a Minneapolis Girl Without Wheels Contemplates 2014

No more
excuses left—
Saint Paul here she comes now
riding the Green Line LRT
at last.

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Glass Plan

To run a marathon, write
a book, publish
a poem, make
love to a woman, join
a commune, find
a home, see the world,

to call it a day
is to spin my own

epitaph on a 3 x 5
note card, index
my breath, become obsessed
with chasing my own
past, is to take
a long ride on a train.

Drift—Or Curse of the Smiling Eyes

Slip on ice but don’t fall
down. Seventeen more

days. We want a preview.
If I were a train,

I’d be local
and mostly underground

till I’m not. Sub or el—either way
I’d move people more

than I could ever move you

or me into tomorrow’s
shades of the unstratified.