At sundown
I slip on my maglev sneakers
and run
from town to town so much faster
than any of
these modern so-called locomotives
bound to
their terrestrial tracks –
not me,
I make free
with rough terrain and man-made
impediments,
watch my rivals struggle up long
inclines
that fail to even break my stride.
They
clatter and lurch to give advance warning
to far-off
ears pressed against the rails
but I
arrive unexpected, pass by and am gone
to a collective
intake of breath.
You can
stoke your engines and blow
your
pretentious pipes
but you’re
not fooling anyone who’s already
been
upended by the wind of my passage.
