some lines about

smoking a cigarette outside penn station

If ever you're in need of someone to talk to

simply light a cigarette in front of Pennsylvania Station.

Watch as the masses descend from thin air

to share their stories and call you 'precious honeychile'.

To bum a spare

and maybe a light

and maybe a dollar, if you have one please.

Because they're all stranded. Every last one.

And don't you know that dollar, well

that's the last one they need

to buy that golden ticket home.

And after praising your sweet, beautiful soul

they'll leave you be with a glimpse of another life

and maybe half a pack.

If you manage to last the whole fifteen minute fix

without retreating into the popcorn-scented underground

then you may just be a saint. 

And if you leave the experience still craving the embrace of humanity 

perhaps you are a masochist.

Author's Note

This piece is in the anthology, Bushwick Poetry. I am still open to critiques!

Reviews

[fugitive]

I like this....fanciful prose in observance of our foible laden species....