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On the M Train
The man reached up
and barfed—the subway floor
a river of his leftovers—
lucky or not the pinstriped
Wall Street
men left.

 
Lucky for me I was alone with the man.
 
I smelled the floor.
I cared for all of it
reading a book
the whole way in
on the M train
reading a book
about the best moment
one can ever have
the moment called
bliss
when we are lifted
beyond expectation
into whatever gold
shines.

 
Lucky for me
I was alone with the man.
Lucky for me I cared
for all of it.


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© gaillangstroth

the artist gail langstroth retains the copyright for all materials: visual, written and filmed. reproduction, copying, or redistribution for commercial or other purposes of any materials or design elements on the website is strictly prohibited without the express written permission of gail langstroth.

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