she wears a diamond- studded cross, and reads a book called the simpler life.
the businessman sits, gestures for his girlfriend to use his lap. she won’t.
“y’all got old people names,” he says. “like willy. and charles. and juanita.”
the man i’m next to fidgets at each stop, anxious to be rid of me.
a woman sits with two bags of groceries, filled only with cat food.
some people take such great measures to avoid eye contact with strangers.
a man, hands free, boards with a toddler who has two heavy bags; unfair.
“i love the snow!” he exclaims, and thirty sopping wet passengers glare.
a blind woman finds her stop, her bearing, just by memory, alone.
with narrowed eyes she glares at the couple, who use romantic whispers.
coffee, a tote bag, her phone - all things she carries just in her right hand.
she tells a story, and laughs; her seatmate listens to it, and doesn’t.
she rearranges her infant’s hair strand by strand, scared she might hurt him.
they kiss as if no one is around, as if they invented kissing.
he wrings his hands, looks down diagonally at the aisle, anxious, afraid.
she starts to falter. he steadies her, his hand on hers, though they’re strangers.
i’m bewildered by the guy who smirks at me when i miss the trolley.
they somehow even spoon as they’re leaving the train. they’re lucky they’re cute.
of his headphones, he says: “this is the shit.” then, to silence: “the SHIT, man.”
sleeping against the window, his head lolls with each turn; he doesn’t wake.
apparently there’s a science to choosing which empty seat to take.
our politeness in offering seats makes this ride like musical chairs.
she guards her aloe plants more gingerly than she does for her own feet.
she keeps headbutting my hand on the rail, and says, “stop touching me, man.”
he leans in to talk; she leans out into the aisle to avoid talking.
driver has a las vegas keychain, and dreams of winning big, leaving.
old man nervously mutters his grocery list: “eggs. milk. bread. eggs. milk.”
three teenage boys dance far more gracefully than i could on solid ground.
he keeps getting up, worried he might miss his stop and ride forever.