2/3 Train, Fulton Street to 96th Street, November 10th 2014
I caught the word “poetry” on one of the pages of the book he was reading, plus he smiled at me when I stepped into the car. I’m not inclined to interrupt a person who is reading – at least not lately in my shy phase – so I waited. When he took a break, I asked. Look at the slope of the writing on the page! It’s a poem but it’s also a drawing. He works at B & H by day, and maintains a writing practice on the subway. He also blogs about gaming and education, and writes about Crown Heights. In an email to me he coined the term “subway writing community.” That it.
Jagged edges
sharp corners
cold – emotionless
but quiet
A presence they have
which can’t be ignored
sometimes hot, spicy even
changing all the time
sometimes blue and
sometimes red
sometimes smiling, and
other times crying
the frame
with the picture on my
desk
whispers so much.
It is an abyss of emotion
of internal awareness
that frees us to
accept what is behind the
smile in the picture.