The Underground

There is a tension 

in the squeal and hiss 

of the underground.

It sits on the tendon

below the atlas 

and to the right.

Sometimes it feels 

it will depart,

fly out like a dove 

through the ear, 

when the head bounces 

back and forth 

to the curves.

There is a tension 

in the opening doors 

and air-gushing brakes.

It sits on the tendon 

below the atlas 

and to the right.

I don't find that tension 

when I look gazedly

at a mountain.

7 September 1995