I can't imagine you on the subway,
bobbing rhythmically on your bench
between the homeless and the hopeless

faces glowing flourescent and then dark
with the faulty cable connections.
You couldn't stand the plum faces here,

looking with such expectation,
and how they never dimmed in the night
no matter how intimidating you tried to seem.

The bathroom lights flicker when I turn them on,
and you're not home to frown
and plan on getting around to replacing them

even though I know where the bulbs are all the time.
Waiting for you to do things your way
was always mine.

10/21/2011

Posted on 10/21/2011
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