Long Island Railroad

The train glides smooth
Through Einstein=s paradox.
Green windows dirty
Lovers embrace
And the drunks.

Some grace might come
If tired feet
Could stretch and kick
Till oblivion=s end.

When bridge around
The tableau wearies
Yellow seasick waves
Can break.

O, I could tell you -
But let it be.
I=m homeward bound
On the 5:23.