When I am on the Maxx at night I like to look at all the people
secretly.
I would look through the glass which encases my eyes.
but not their true form only what the glass mirrors
Its like a fun house watching the floor shift between the cars when the train takes a turn
and through the tunnels I feel like I am shooting through a galaxy of faces at angle you would never expect to see still on the earth.
Three sixty hall of mirror, faces like ghosts I have met before
and people are mostly at their most vulnerable on the trains only transparent when viewed off the glass.
In a past life I was a peeping tom a fly on the wall...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem