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