Laura Stevenson
The Wait
My life's work is waiting for a train to come
Not driven by a living thing
No free will will I wait for

My masterpiece is running in place
Charting distances I run
Lifting blocks but building nothing
Touching each one and walking off screen

This isn't moving, break my legs
With the strength of a thousand, won't you
Take a once very capable brain
And make it quiet, make it sane
And never able to work the same again

Now that the alkaline taste in my mouth
It runs through my throat, into my nose
And I know it's going to kill me

It's killing me, it's killing me
Oh, the wait is killing me