Poems From Subway To Work

2.
Let the subway be our greek meeting place
for there is whare everybody goes
especially in the morning & I can smell
the thousands of caffe waves come from every seet.
But here all sad faces meet
& I sit silent but happy bound
that all my New York family is here.
I am a subway rider near you all, only
I want to talk to you – but everybody is so
straightfaced & mummy fixed.
Standing over you my tung drops out
and accidently licks the bald head
of an old man reading shues.
Some angry woman throws a baby into my lap.
I look at the Pepsi-coala sign and drink water in my mind.
Then the rush for the doors and crowded platforms.
No snow or yelloo leaves in the dark iron subway.