Subway to El on the “2” Train: 1976
Frannie Z
You’re just riding, but well,
you’re twenty-something
and looking, too…
He is tall, velvet dark tan,
black eyes, ,
killer smile…
And the hat.
The hat tops everything.
Unselfconsciously he stares,
you stare back.
He grins. You grin back
He takes the hat, spins it
(revealing a mop of dark, wavy hair).
Catches it. Grins again.
Something inside you gyrates,
like one of those new techno toys
and you want to get right up
on top of him
and dance closer
than two courting birds.
West Farms Square.
The train whirls around
spinning buildings, streets, stores,
and high flying dance kings
in discos
into view.
He gets off.
You stay on.
Pelham Parkway, meet 158th Street.
Don’t stop now.
I like this
Thank you, Sarayb!
Don’t stop now! 🙂 What a rich, sexy poem!
Good luck, my friend. I’m done with my half-marathon. <3
I’m foolish and staying. Hope you will have a great night after writing all of those wonderful poems.