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Slamming the MBTA
By adamg on Fri, 06/10/2011 - 6:55am
But this time in verse. The Boston Poetry Slam is organizing an MBTA poetry slam in which participants have to rep their favorite T line:
"What can I say? I’m a huge fan of poems about trains," says organizer Steve Subrizi. "I'm pretty sure there's nobody in this city who hasn't had something hilarious or heartbreaking happen to them on the subway."
It's June 29 at the Cantab Lounge in Central Square.
Neighborhoods:
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Comments
My entry
Clickety clack clickety clack
Charlie on board, he never came back
Green snakes slide slow
through tunnel and borough
Take the C Line to Brookline
Take the B Line to waste time
From Newton to new town
Green Tufts of grass just out of reach
The British are coming!
But I hear no guns or bells
Just the redcoats marching
From the Common to Cambridge
Lurching like a drunken Alewife
They never make it to Concord
But why pick on Palin
She's clearly a Maverick
She blew through town
with fake Blue collar "wisdom"
Like the blue dress of Alice
or Neo's blue pill
Best to leave fantasy to Wonderland
Moldy oranges gather more moss
Rust builds and unbuilds
What used to run over
now just runs ocher
Their time is due
They do time for you
In summer, you sit and sweat
In winter, they use a hairnet
The Silver line is not a train
Just a bust
Clickety clack clickety clack
Charlie on board, he never came back
i wrote a haiku about the green line
poo on the green line
poo poo poo poo poo poo poo
poo on it all, yes.
My T Haiku
Eyes up read the ad
Eyes to my palm, feign intent
Eyes to the floor- Crocs?
My Poem- Green Line
To my favorite and dearest green line
Frequently squeaky, rarely on time
Home of DJ Nighttrain and pervert-related crime
Sitting at Park Street, words cannot describe my pain
When 30 B, C, and D trolleys go by, without a single E train
In competition with Chicago and NYC, we're behind the transit game
Wanna take the T past 1230? Well that's a shame
You think the T should be 24hours, well I feel the same
I'll miss the days of the B line, packed shoulder to shoulder with those college squirts
The frat boys in polos, and the trollops in skirts
Stuffed so tightly, face up against the door
Freshman screaming I LOVE JAEGER
Then vomitting on the floor
But never change green line, our memories are great
T drivers texting, and sneaking past the gates
From doctors, to college kids, and even the freaks
Thats what makes our love-hate relationship truly unique