Doors open to step, shuffle, sidle people
past The Voice who rings out destinations. Old Man
sticks his nose into the handkerchief while
Lady-in-Heels walks past afraid
with her momentary question of "Where,
where to sit?" and Little Girl pulls her midnight
skin cheek, fascinated by elasticity -
a stop sudden start again of the train creates heavy sighs.
Young Man stares across at Plexiglas and sits,
crisp determined to hold his briefcase,
next to Pink-Shirt: the fat dark lady with her chin
draped over chins. Pimple-Face is stuffed
into a shirt and seat with his big moon-head
tilted down and small pale hands twiddling,
while Old Man sneezes out a thousand germs.
Small Hopeful Boy holds a balloon with
tender fingers by Sad-Eyed Lady
blessed with beautiful hair. Indian Man, fat-brown-cinnamon
in a linen smock stares at 80's records
from his plastic bag, ignoring Old Hag
with the cart who cackles at the
lights piercing her eyes - a horn startles five
to open expressions of nervous smiles and Old Man
shows his crooked teeth to Plexiglas, who
grins back just as ugly. Young Man departs
leaving a heavy disapproving trail of cologne, while Pink-Shirt
smugly expands and gurgles at Little Girl
who sings Jesus songs. Small Hopeful Boy has found her
out and stands by, sucking his thumb,
while Sad-Eyed Lady holds the red balloon
and asks Plexiglas if her makeup looks alright.
Afternoon Metro Ride
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