Sunday, June 21, 2009

Sad Flicker

She sat on the bus, all in blue,
something second hand with
worn platform sandals on her feet,
headphones in tangled hair,
talking to the window, and
Laughing occasionally in timid Mandarin,
twitching from time to time,
like the sad flicker
of an ancient lightbulb refusing to die

On the subway I sat where I could watch,
but I only got the back of her as if
she had no face to show
She sat, chin glued to the window's edge,
eyes wide, dreaming the waking life,
that of long time drug use
Then she left, that station
seeming as good as any other
But with the fraying of that woman,
you could hear the weird tweaker requiem

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