14th Street Jump

packed platform thick with bodies, sweat, too many breaths not enough air
weaving and bobbing my way to the end of the platform
knowing sensing something irregular in the heavy air

annoucements over pa system, heads turning upward to look at the speakers

like dogs responding to the voice of their master

platform closed at 14th

and I know.
a jumper
I feel it, I know it
not really wanting to know how or why I do

outbound train pulling slowly into the station
it won't stop.
not this one.

why - when it has ample seating available
jumper don't break the train, far from it

safety? respect? tradition?
a last gesture to the meeting of flesh and steel and it's inevitable consequence?

I see it at once
crushed, indented sheet metal at the front of the car
unmistakable
point of bodily impact

flashing image of wiley coyote pressed to the front of a locomotive.
eyes wide but resigned

irreverant? perhaps I really don’t care.

quickly scanning the faces of my fellow passengers-to-be
looking for signs of recognition - do they see it?
how can they not?
haven't they ever watched cartoons?

watch the impassive faces.
occurs to me they must match my own
my street face, my hard mask
either they don't know, or they don't give a shit

four trains pull in, none of them mine
but the platform empties until my own train arrives
boarding and sitting platform-side
waiting and watching out the window

pulling into 14

slowing not stopping
another tribute to futility?

there it is, alone.

set apart a few feet from a cluster of police and paramedics talking quietly
facing death every day, they still draw near together shunning death
they turn their backs to it

outlined form on low gurney
white material stretched taut over defined head, toes.
no crimson flows to rape the virginal white
crushing impact

jumpers don’t bleed much
ever hear the one about the hemophiliac jumper?
I thought not.

did the jumper plan it this way?
did it time the final act just so?

in that last moment of courage still afraid
of the cutting wheels
flesh-tearing underbelly of the steel behemoth?
the instrument of jumper's will.

white sheet or black bag?
how do you want to go today?

back to the clump of living humanity

talking

somehow I don't think they discuss the unspeakable
I bet they speak of life.

scene withdrawing slowly from me
no I withdraw from it

pulled along on the safer side of steel
under the East River we go
or is it the River Styx?
quick somebody, check a map

black tunnel walls engulf me and my fellow passengers.