This city makes me tick

“Do Not Cross Tracks”:


She was “Dying to get there”;

one of those people that those signs are made for.

She tripped while crossing the tracks and fell

and the train chugged along, right over her.

Pinned, she waited for the firemen to rescue her

while claustrophobia slowly set in.

They had to set air bags under the train

then inflate them until she could crawl out.

She emerged, unscathed and whole, from the tracks,

scaring the shit out of the conductor

and annoying the hell out of the passengers.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741