My Journey to Work

by Victor Velez

I.
The alarm clock
shatters the silence
covering me
like a blanket.

My bare feet
land on the cold floor
like a bed of ice-
darkness grabs my skin.
I part the curtain
and peek into the tail end
of the night.
The wind hums, leaves swirl,
dancing like Matisse's painting.
I take a hot shower,
the bathroom mirror
is covered with steam-
avoiding me.

Dressed,
I glance over my shoulder
leaving behind
a silence
as thick as fog.

II.
I approach the entrance
to my journey to work,
the cold air incarnates in my breath.
The train station
stands above the ground,
my token waits
behind a closed
frozen-fist.

I insert it,
reach the platform,
the train sits
facing the wall,
waiting to depart.

III.
I enter the train car.
Inside, over there,
a person sleeps in sanctuary.
I sit. I feel the train breath,
it waits.

Outside the window
a shivering clock hangs
pointing to six 12.
Posted ads distract me,
invite me to read them,
to join in their endless smiles,
while a person sleeps,
over there.
Layers of clothes
won't permit the cold air,
my eyes to penetrate
to discover its gender,
see some aging lines-
soft pink palms.

The train leaves
towards the next
local stop.

Other passengers begin to board,
prior available seats
become fewer.
Some stand, others move on
while questions pile up
from station to station.

IV.
As the train thrusts
into the city
intermingled in my thoughts
I doze off into a light sleep-
in sanctuary.

V.
I awake!
My stop!
Time has traveled
to 7 twelve.

Lines for coffee, buttered rolls,
newspapers folded under armpits.
In the midst of all this haste
along walls where posters hang,
living in our peripheral vision
are people sleeping on folded cardboards,
using yesterday's news as pillows.

VI.
Like a periscope
I reach street level.
People rushing,
dodging rushing people.

I glance across the street,
women and men
are lined up like "The Great Depression"
to get sandwiches
donated by the local church.
I enter the building,
wait for the elevator-
doors open.
I enter.
I press the button
marked 3.
I reach my desk,
and pour a cup of coffee,
on its surface
I see reflected images
of countless people
living on the streets.

-- VV
©2000 Victor Velez

Photographer, writer and musician Victor M. Velez was born in Santurce, Puerto Rico in 1956; his family migrated to Brooklyn when he was one year old. A member of the Cincinnati Writers Project, Victor has performed his poetry in New York City and at the University of Cincinnati during National Poetry Month. His work is featured in Six Silver Bullet Proof Poetry Chapbook and he has appeared on Cincinnati Public Access Television’s “Loaded Poets,” a poetry reading and workshop special. He combines poetry and photography in “A Quest for Answers,” a poetry manuscript on one of the country’s most prolonged social issues: homelessness. Velez plays Conga in “Latin X-posure,” a 12-piece salsa, merengue and Latin jazz band based in Cincinnati. The band recently released its first CD under JCurve Records.