I was on my way to Brooklyn, the other day.
the subway car wasn’t packed,
but there were any available seats left.
I was reading a book about meditation,
and leaning against the subway car door.
on the other side of the car, there was that guy,
sweating, greasy hair, thick lips.
he was squeezing some silicone blonde with his
sausage like fingers.
he was squeezing her, like a toothpaste tube.
and I got anxious, you know, because she may burst
and the silicone will ooze from the walls
and everybody in the car will be covered with it.
and this guy will look at his hands
with frightened eyes, then at me
and will lose his conscience.
and everybody will scream, but me,
yet the thought of becoming a vegetarian,
nevertheless penetrated my mind.
and the train will stop
and it will happen right in the middle of Brooklyn bridge.
then the police will come
and the EMT too,
they’ll put that girl into the plastic bag
and then into glass tube filled formalin
and display it in the Ripley’s Believe it or not.
later I will bring my kids and show them this tube,
and tell them this story about the train.
then the train stopped at DeCalb Avenue
and they left the train.
I got back to my meditation book,
thinking about the steak, that I had