By the tracks,or close enoughto make the price go down,the men all feign

train whistles, wistful.

 But treasure the silence between. In six roomapartmentsthat are mostly for one,uprooting

is named transplanting.

Yet seclusion can be a garden.

 Through windowswith blindsthat are wanting for curtainsphosphorus light

is all that illumines.

Still, invention enjoys the dark.

 On queen framedmattresswith perfunctory shamshyperbolic thread countgoes mostly unnoticed.  

Some things are better to share.

© Morgan Driscoll 

Morgan Driscoll is a long time commercial artist, looking to express himself in some other way than selling Widgets. Poetry seemed the least commercial, and most under the radar way he could think of. So far it has been a satisfying, but obscure journey. He has been published in The Amethyst Review, Humanist Magazine, Mused, Califragile, Pure Slush, Caesura, and the Northwest Indiana Literary Journal.