Want Poem by Rusty Morrison

crowded Monday subway its mindlessness botanical
you take the first seat claim it for your age your figural
effaced your t-shirt smelling already like somebody

else's sweat a toddler is crashing against your leg his
mom gives him a sucker he hasn't figured out how to
fit inside his mouth you taste the instant's sumptuous pause

between confused and choking on surfaces you can't fit
your lips around and swallow incentivizing short terms
that electronically spit you out your genes passed on

without you in the pool you
didn't know how soon would drown
you