1 train, June 2018
Leila wrote two poems, both of them really good. She just moved back to NYC and I bet she’s zipping down an avenue.
I can be anyone when I’m riding my bike
I can wear anything
and scowl or smile and
it doesn’t matter
I am gone in a flash,
but I am still seen.
I can make people think
anything I want about me
cool girl on the bike
yellow sunglasses, can’t see her face
where is she going
Grocery store, a friend’s?
I’m riding in loops,
if they only knew.
But maybe they do.