Neil Young’s voice, but not really, wafts over the rushing ruckus at Bloor-Yonge Station, all of us marching like ants underground to wherever we need to go, but, as usual, some delay keeps the doors open and the busker’s voice floats through the stalled train accompanied by the tinny riffs from his old guitar. We peer from our hoods and hats toward the platform as if…but it can’t be, and we know that it can’t be, but if we close our eyes we may see him mournfully crooning. We all righteously feel a bit helpless clinging as we do to those loops, our gloved fingers hanging on before the subway heaves us, weary of losing our footing, feeling foolish for stomping someone’s toes who’s already had the worst day ever, but tonight, instead of a scowl, a smile curls on the face of a stranger.
Bill Garvey's collection of poetry, The basement on Biella, was published in 2023 by DarkWinter Press. His poems have been in Rattle, One Art, San Antonio Review, Connecticut River Review, Cimarron Review, The New Quarterly and others. Bill is a dual citizen of Canada and the USA. He lives in Nova Scotia and Toronto with his wife, Jean.
While you’re here, check out our awesome merch:
Wow this is amazing! Such vivid language and powerful writing.
I love this poem. If you haven't already, please subscribe to my page so that you receive your new poem every day. I've always thought of writing a subway song. Where I live they aren't around, something about sea level and sand. However, this poem is great. It was as if you were speaking the poem I've always wanted to write. Maybe there will be a subway poem in the future. Great poem.