Yesterday afternoon I sat on the G train writing lines on a yellow legal pad. There is a charm to the yellow and orange and red seats of the green line. Here is a train that tries its best, a train that does everything that it can to bridge the gap between Brooklyn and Queens. So when I jumped on at Clinton-Washington then twenty minutes later stood above ground at Union and Keap, across the way from the Kellogg's diner, somewhere within me I only wished that the ride on the good train was a bit longer.
January Twentieth, 2020