The Train

Not that anyone will care,

But as I was sitting there

On the 8:07

To New Haven,

I was struck by lightning.

The strangest thing

Wasn't the flash of my hair

Catching on fire,

But the way people pretended

Nothing had happened.

For me, it was real enough.

But it seemed as if

The others saw this as nothing

But a way of happening,

A way to get from one place

To another place,

But not a place itself.

So, ignored, I burned to death.

Later, someone sat in my seat

And my ashes ruined his suit.