Access Denied

I swiped the card until the plastic wore thin,

waiting for the little green light to say yes.

The city is humming a dissonant din

while I’m stuck in this metal and concrete mess.

The rusted arm dug a hole in my hip

when I tried to push through with a heavy-set lean.

I can feel the whole morning start to lose its grip

on the things that I thought I had already seen.

The people behind me are huffing their breath,

a chorus of clouds in the freezing cold air.

They’re looking at me like a slow, quiet death,

like a problem they didn't expect to be there.

I’m caught in the teeth of a gear that won't move,

a physical 'no' in a world of fast starts.

There’s nothing to fix and there’s nothing to prove

when the machine doesn't care about human hearts.