Wednesday, July 23, 2008


I am sitting behind a woman on the bus.
I am aching to finger this woman's ringlets.
They hang off the back of her head
in a black glossy ponytail,
about forty of them.
They are begging to be pulled straight
and then released.
I am thinking and behaving like a small boy
I am contemplating reaching upward and
"accidentally" brushing my finger tip
down one.
I can manage to distract myself, if only
for a moment.
I can look out the window, up at smokey clouds,
past the ponytail, but to no avail.
I am nervous and my hands tingle
I am damn close to pulling the cord and getting off
eight blocks before my stop.

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