If you run/rush your way
onto a crowded F train
all sweaty and out of breath
panting onto the people around you
and you spy from just out of the corner
of your drippy eye
some vision of beauty
one of the thousand images of perfection
that haunt your nights,
that kind of picture
of innocence and elegance,
mystery and mastery of glory,
that leaves you stunned silent,
if you see that thing
and you forget for a minute
that you just came from a root canal
and before that the gym
and before that, well,
you don’t remember,
your memory isn’t serving you too well.
Maybe it’s the anesthetic.
But you know you’re not at your best.

But you’ve never seen this finest creature
of impeccable wonder before
and you doubt you will again
unless you stake out this train
at this time
for the rest of the month
and, really, what are the odds that someone like that
is a regular consumer of public transportation?
This is probably your only opportunity to view this sight
to experience this wonder
to speak to such a figure
to make yourself known.
This is do or die. Come on!

If you are on this train
basting in juices
dripping with drool
amazed by this creature before you
that has dazed you
beyond recognition
but still you recognize that this
is the only chance you may ever have,
then by all means, take it
but don’t forget the odds you had
going in.