July 1, 2010 § 8 Comments
The ticking of the trailing tracks
Are more welcoming
Than the screaming screeches of metal on metal.
The melody supplied by my headphones
Drown out the Chatty Patty next to me,
Little Whining Willy down the subway car,
And Homeless Harold asking for donations of any kind.
My eyes wander across the faces of the passing passengers.
The long days are worn on the long faces
Of the wearied worried warts.
I try not to stare at the man
Who air drums to his ipod.
I admire his courage to be himself
Amongst wide eyes and flicking fingers.
Another announcement about a regulated stop
Dumping and receiving more passengers.
Gazing towards the illuminated destination map
I admire the lost locusts of New York City
Knowing I will never see many again.