Dallas Poem by Walter Burns

i could read poetry all morning
on this slow moving train
that winds through the heart
of the city.
and get lost in the words
of the modernists
my blood brothers in dust.
or watch the headlines on the red
lightning board -
the weather report -
or do the second half of
a crossword puzzle,
read the Bible,
eat my sandwich,
do sudoku -
the easy unchallenging
version.
but instead, this morning,
i read minds.

yours says 'old man, stop staring at me'
but i can't,
you're far too pretty.