A Cultural Commute

Whoever says the NYC public transportation system is nothing but grime and dirt, should take another look. I've often found myself reading (and sometimes writing down) their Poetry in Motion or enjoying their Arts for Transit. Granted, these illustrations often appear in the newer trains on the green line...that run down the fancy schmancy east side of Manhattan.

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
~Variation on the Word Sleep, Margaret Atwood

The winter was fierce, my dear,
Snowy and blowy and cold,
A heart-breaker and record-breaker,
And I am feeble and old.

But now it is lilac time.
Come out in the sweet warm air,
Come and I'll gather flowers
To put in your beautiful hair.

Let's make a bouquet of lilac
For our old bedside table.
Then the fragrance in the night
Will make me form-i-dable.
~Lilac Time, Hayden Carruth

Take hands.
There is no love now.
But there are hands.
There is no joining now,
But a joining has been
Of the fastening of fingers
And their opening.
More than the clasp even, the kiss
Speaks loneliness,
How we dwell apart
And how love triumphs in this.
~Take Hands, Laura (Riding) Jackson

In Flight, Chris Gall, 2008

Fire Escape, Philippe Lechien, 2008

Coney Island, Tim Zeltner, 2007

Images: mta.info