3 Train, Fulton Street to 96th Street, January 21st, 2015
Recursion! I was looking for a stranger and so was she. I didn’t know it at first. I saw her writing by the pole. I thought she might be a writer scribbling in a notebook. Then I saw that it was a card. My interest flagged slightly. My neighbor on the left got up and she sat down, rather eagerly I thought, and so I asked. “I’m not very good at writing poems.” Me: “What were you writing?” She whispered, “I was writing a note for my neighbor.” How bold! I thought it was a love note. But it was social science. That’s nice too. As the neighbor exited she passed her the note. There we were, two professors on the way to teach, hunting for words. Check out the Public Science Project.
Funny that you ask me
to write a poem,
A stranger on a train.
I my self have been debating
if it crosses the line
to reach out to some one
you don’t know
and ask a question
do you want to participate?
I’m doing a new project
a very cool project with
queer youth
Wanna join?
I wrote you a note
I hope you will read it
Why you?
Why me?
I’m not a poet
sorry to embarrass you or
make assumptions
other than knowing
that we’re all much more
than strangers on a train