I.
The escalator pulls me above ground,
a maudlin monotony of movement
that cycles
tens
hundreds
thousands
of times a day.
I wait for the moment
the ridges of the moving stairwell
will halt the tips of my boots
so I can fall on my face.
What would it be like
to have strangers walk over me
or crack my spine like a book?
II.
The reel of you and me
runs through my thoughts
a faucet running on full strength,
relentless.
Are we filling the sink
or getting pulled down the drain?
Either/or
we’re drowning.
III.
Just
Beyond
The
Doors
I
Cannot
Reach
Words are written in black
against a yellow backdrop of caution paint:
WATCH THE GAP
The lettering is half-faded,
a mantra
that’s reinterpreted each day
to fit my mood, a horoscope
that I’m convinced will change my life.
Caroline Sipio is a writer and bibliophile from the Philadelphia area with a penchant for coffee and imagining different arrangements of words. She has a Bachelors of Arts degree in English from Saint Joseph’s University and a Masters of Arts degree in English from Boston College. She has previously been published in Crimson & Gray. She currently works at Villanova University’s Falvey Memorial Library where you’ll find her happily surrounded by books. Caroline loves to celebrate Halloween year round and watch her miniature, wire-haired dachshund named Lemon play in the leaves.
Please note: Poetry is compressed to fit smart phone screens. If you are reading this poem on a phone screen, please turn your screen sideways to make sure that you are seeing correct line breaks for this poem.
THE CITY KEY 