F train, 14th Street Station, March 8th, 2018
After a hiatus, I jumped back into the poetry finding saddle. Brought my notebook, decided to begin on my ride home. Beth was pacing on the platform. She looked bright, had a notebook, looked like a possible poet, looked like she had something on her mind. Too late, she was gone. Then she reappeared, turned away again. I followed, got an immediate “yes.” Turns out she’s a published author of a well known memoir and a novel, and is now writing for film and television. Despite such writing credentials, she had no inhibition whatsoever. She was open and super nice.

I was pacing
Thinking about my bridal shower
Thrown for me when I was 29
I wasn’t going to invite the women in my family
But my mother in law so desperately wanted
to meet them

They showed up in their Pittsburgh Steeler sweatshirts
Teeth missing

I remember being very self-conscious of how
expensive my gifts were.
   especially the pots + pans from
   crate + barrel.

Read a poem by Barnabas W.

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