Just Another Guy on the IRT-___--

1 Train 116th Street to 72nd street, April 2nd 2014
I first noticed his bright orange socks. A poet! He laughed through the entire poem. I did too. He’s a lawyer. “Business matters…” His son and daughter urge him to write.

I travel the No. 1 train

to decompress.

Decompress from what you
ask?

The follies of not being
in control and having to leave
matters to the winds of fate.

Like paying $90 to send an

overnight package by federal

express to Trinidad.

Only to have the package
stranded 2-1/2 hours away
from its destination.

“Every time, on time,”
well, just doesn’t hold
up for Fed Exp and its
myth-inducing “castaway”
perceptions.

So, I decompress

I let go.

I allow the cosmos to
guide me…

So I don’t suffer a stroke
over things I cannot control.

Read a poem by Zed L.

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