Catch Your Breath
tire on pavement
root in the darkened ground
sirens in the distance
jets in the evening sound
at 3 a.m. the stoplight changes with no-one around

rocks still falling
and the river's calling
keep on walkin' 
catch your breath

sandwich on your plate
the message on your machine
the neon reflections of
plastic clowns and a young james dean
the broom and the bathroom breaks from keeping the plastic clean

nutritious meals
dine on wheels
keep on swallowing
catch your breath

newspaper in the street
blows in a puff of wind
she runs for the subway door
she pulls her handbag in
her eyes close as the tracks roll backwards from where she has been

electric lights
days and nights
good morning
catch your breath

© 2002 Adam Hirsch.