[Erik Olson]

All I have is one dark piece with supernatural spooks, with Demons (or Daimons, or Dæmons, which is it?)

The Subway Arm

A man finds, pushing through the rout,
the subway gorged with bodies when
the doors snap shut and block him out
but for one arm, ensnared within.

The arm protrudes, takes time to breathe
till doors part. But the train, instead,
locks the arm in its wanton teeth
and lopes across the track ahead,
the man in a stumbling waltz with doubt
dragged along the platform getting weary,
as fingers of the arm grope out
amid a shrieking aviary
of flushed commuters. As the vast
dark tunnel’s throat is drawing near,
the arm slides down the doors at last
and is observed to disappear.
Though whether from perseverance or
a frame knocking the wall combined,
whether marred by a conductor
woke at the loud thump from behind
or saved by claws of demons quick
to jest for sneers, none tell whose trick.
c