January,
Metro
a young girl giggles,
shirt tail girl,
sundress girls in
a few months
you never can
imagine ever
needing plastic
surgery. High
pert asses, thick
dark brown hair. My
mother always said
my hair had
golden glints as
hair dressers thinned
what was too thick.
If I understood
Chinese, I’d know
what is making her
laugh and smile
so. If I understood
how in this grey
back to work day she
could bubble,
half sing, maybe
I could try to too
from January Poems, 2006