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The reason that i find this poem really terrifying is that for me it's about when your mind comes apart and, erm, all you have is the seperate cars, and the things inside those cars, can't keep you alive, if your mind comes apart.
A Hundred Bolts of Satin
All you
have to lose
is one
connection
and the mind
uncouples
all the way back.
It seems
to have been
a train.
There seems
to have been
a track.
The things
that you
unpack
from the
abandoned cars
cannot sustain
life: a crate of
tractor axles,
for example,
a dozen dozen
clasp knives,
a hundred
bolts of satin –
perhaps you
specialized
more than
you imagined.
from Say Uncle: Poems (Grove Press, 2000), © Kay Ryan 2000, used by permission of the author and Grove/Atlantic, Inc. Poetry Foundation recording made on 11 Sept 2007, San Francisco, California.