Electric Karma Subway Surfing Blues (magazine edited)

When I ride the subway I go to the very first car and stand with my face just millimeters from the front window. I have a full 180 degree view of everything up ahead, nothing beneath me or to the sides, like I'm suspended in space just above the tracks. I put my feet together, touch the tips of my toes to the front door and I feel the thrill of hangin' ten & tube riding a giant momentous surfboard

When the train starts the acceleration is incredible, like dropping in on that big wave after the hurricane. The floor shifts & lunges from side to side like a surfboard cutting through white water. I bend my knees and put out my arms to keep balance.

The machinery of the train roars like the thunder of waves pounding into the sand. Cutting through the cosmos on 600 volt motors the train continues on like the rush of an outer-body experience... Time is expanded. Lights flash by the tunnel like the souls of animal sacrifices that Plato said would guide the dead to their destiny... Racing towards what? Heaven? Oblivion? Reincarnation?

All I know is I arrive at the next station, the same as the last, covered with graffiti with filthy floors reeking of urine.

Original submitted version:

Electric Karma Subway Surfing Blues

When I ride the subway I go to the very first car and stand with my face just millimeters from the glass of the front window. I get a full one hundred and eighty degree view of what's going on up ahead -- nothing is beneath me or to the sides -- like I am suspended in space just a few feet above the tracks. I put my feet together, and touch the tips of my toes to the front door, like hanging ten & tube riding a giant momentous surfboard.

When the train starts the acceleration is incredible like dropping in on that big wave after the hurricane. The floor shifts & lunges from side to side like a surfboard cutting through white water, and I bend my knees and put out my arms to keep balance.

The Machinery of the train roars like the thunder of waves pounding into the sand. Cutting through the cosmos on 600 Volt motors like the head rush of an outer-body experience. Time is expanded. Lights flash by in the tunnel like the souls of animal sacrifices that Plato said would guide the Dead to their destiny. Racing toward what? Heaven? Oblivion? Reincarnation?

All I know is I arrive like screaming birth at the next station, the same as the last -- covered with graffiti with a filthy floor reeking of urine.

by T. J. Richter

© March 4, 1989 Theodore J. Richter

Revising the MeMoRiZeD Coastline Of My Mind

This is the original written version of Electric Karma Subway Surfing Blues. Many times after writing a poem, I will perform it from memory for years, unconsciously making subtle changes with each performance, my mouth unconsciously wearing away the printed text like ocean tides carving out a more elegant coastline over millennia. Years later, when I read the original poem, I am always surprised how much better the memorized version in my mind is, my mouth unknowingly doing major revisions for me, like a folk-tale passed down for generations within myself. Then I have to re-type whole the poem all over again! Click here to see the final, subconsciously supercharged version of Electric Karma Subway Surfing Blues in the artwork section of this website, what an improvement!