Blue line bleeds on sunbaked vinyl seats
Red ink dries where mesquite shadow meets
Green route folds past token booth rust
Orange transfer crumbles into dust
Yellow express melts in noon white heat
Purple local lost on dusty street
Paper breathes in desert afternoon
Folded city meets the sandstone dune
No turnstile click no fluorescent hum
Just piñon smoke and rhythm of the drum
Map reads downtown but the sky says home
Tracks run silent where the buffalo roam
Coffee stain on Lexington Ave
Hash brown scattered where the lizards wave
Regulars order eggs over light
Short jokes pass through screen door night
Ticket spindle spins a greasy tale
Vacancy sign flickers pale and frail
Queens Boulevard melts in Santa Fe
Times Square transfer fades in clay
Conductor voice swallowed by the wind
Next stop announced on sagebrush skin
Express local both ride the same breeze
Subway smell replaced by juniper trees
Paper breathes in desert afternoon
Folded city meets the sandstone dune
No turnstile click no fluorescent hum
Just piñon smoke and rhythm of the drum
Map reads downtown but the sky says home
Tracks run silent where the buffalo roam
Grill marks brand the transfer slip
Ketchup packet marks the final trip
Order up rings hollow in the canyon
Hash browns golden as the morning sun
Map folds tight in a calloused hand
Desert reads what the city planned
Crease lines deepen with each passing year
Token slots sealed by tumbleweed tear
Still I trace the routes my fingers know
Underground where desert rivers flow
No next stop announced no closing door
Just this veranda and nothing more
Paper breathes in desert afternoon
Folded city meets the sandstone dune
No turnstile click no fluorescent hum
Just piñon smoke and rhythm of the drum
Map reads downtown but the sky says home
Tracks run silent where the buffalo roam
Last fold tucked in shirt pocket worn
Train that never blows its morning horn
