contemplating modern constructs of woe

i would like to ride the Queens bound
local R just once, with a man
named Emmett, who maybe works in
marine recovery & repair, and
smells of body-spray and the sea.

and i have yet to meet any one
named Margaret, or Luisa, or Wilbur.

also, the conversation regarding
relations with our brethren in
Asia, with a lady named Ji Hee Park,
as we wait in line, at the self checkout
has not happened yet.

- earlier, the conductor named James
announced that the train from
Philadelphia to New York City
will be packed.

please remove all belongings
from the seat next to you.

the aisle filled up with passengers
who glanced in my immediate direction
and kept moving so i arrived in
New York City with the seat next
to me empty as the
promises one named
Franco might make while
trapped in a burning house
surrounded only by flame and smoke.