There was a short man
sitting in front of me
on the train this morning
having an interview on his cell phone
couldn’t quite work out the accent
but an English voice in a German train
always captures the attention
so I dropped my book
and gave him the quick once-over
beige cords
cream turtleneck
loafers
salon hair
and those perfect moon cuticles
the casual smart look
that seems to be hiding something
……or nothing
a paper bag of grapes
was perched beside him on the seat
for the vitamins (no doubt)
or maybe for the detox
yes
that would fit with the bottle of water
and the faint smell
of sour whiskey bleeding through
his manicured pores
and after a moment
he pulled the phone away from his ear
and glanced at me
I think I was making him paranoid
well
I can only hope so
Fascinating piece of work, you've done well. Great twists with your observations - what ever good poet needs.
Good poem, Sheila...right down to the sour whiskey coming from his pores. Skye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cute. i love this image of some random businessman sitting there and you sitting across from him making him nervous.: P nice description of him. i really liked how you described his hair 'salon hair' i know exaclty what you mean.