Inside the flour face, moon eyes
Inside noise-cancelling cans
Inside the hoodie
In the corner
You lost your train,
SisterBrother
It was lost on you
in there
Nor was it precisely on time
so maybe you remained
in yet another silent
protest against this
inadvertent, unjust
universe where those
who thread carefully and
forfeit the eternal
beauty pageant receive
no reward except
Loneliness and the
occasional kitchen knife
cutdown from
aerodynamic aliens who
during the holiday
grew duck-bills and
freckled holiday cleavages
Through the train window
I gently greet you,
DaughterSon
although I know this
will give you a start as
you think what the fuck
scary scary man
But you greet your
compatriots in foreign
lands, I have learned
And we are always abroad
And the locals blindly
shake and shake and
shake their heads
But I see you, SisterBrother
there in your burqa hoodie
I love you
I wish I could tell you
it gets easier but I don’t
know if believe that anymore
Crawl back into the Japanese
comic book for a while and wait
for the next train
Maybe that one will be on time
