Poem: Train People

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Train People

There's the man with twenty pens
clipped around the collar of his shirt,
a colorful plastic necklace with a
chain of t-shirt fabric.

There's the man in the wheelchair
taking up the entire aisle,
his bright pink hair and layers of sweaters
are only two of the factors drawing
so many perplexed glances.

Then the people clutching cats,
and the ones who just stare,
blankly, menacingly or dazedly,
who are there, it seems,
to keep you always wondering
about the thoughts of strangers.

These creatures of the train...
the men trying to to secretly snap pictures
of that girl's ass and the dirty homeless
men wrestling and screaming insults
next to the frightened girls and the kind gentleman
who watches out for them.
Those loud words and flying fists become the perfect
backdrop for the blur of city outside the window
that keeps a watchful eye on every inhabitant,
even through the greasy train windows.

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