Faces along the east-west subway
Faces I didn’t know were there
Till the TTC planned a trip for me
Up a path where wind bites, blowin’
To Maine where motorized lame keep comin’ and goin’.
Passed imploring arms, out from the walk at a wall.
And a lady screaming she wants to be left alone
With bags on her arms transfixed under heaven;
And her life
And her own mind
Desolate and wild as the wind.
Guarding the underground: a man displaying coins in a stack pleasantly solicits more.