Lost and found

One flat violin,
the smell of garlic knots,
a loud woman speaking mandarin behind my back,
a Hassidic Jew submerged into Talmud
some praisings “Hare Krishna” from another end.

(I even saw Jonah a few times before).

The train dives like a sperm whale
into the gaping hole
into the underworld of Brooklyn.

(en route)

One nauseating hangover,
a notebook.

First I was lost, then I was found on a Friday afternoon.


2 thoughts on “Lost and found

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