I Doubt They Would Notice the Mustachioed Man’s Wife

           —John Ashbery

How you carry yourself in
the train station says a lot
about the Constitution     what  
it lets you experience in
the eyes of the engineers
and how one day you may
believe it necessary to board
the express out of town
you tell no one     and in this
you take your freedom
you take a cold sandwich
from the thin man pushing
his cart down the aisle     outside
the trees impress the darkness
of the train as you pass
into the middle of America
so much change rattles
around in your head you know
you cannot sleep     you
know sleep is for those
on slower land     around their heads 
it is morning     the alarms
have yet to sound     this pleases
you     the trains are moving swiftly 
at their destinations

Credit

Copyright © 2018 by David Welch. Used with the permission of the author. This poem originally appeared in Quarterly West