Poem #60 of 365

It wasn't as bad
as i thought
it would be

even an hour
in Dallas at
the station
was mild

and i love
anyway to
stare at the
people

surreptitiously
of course.

That one guy,
wearing a black
bowler
who kept ogling
himself in the
plate-glass
window as we
queued for
the bus

i think he
might have been
going for the
ska-meets-Kid Rock
look that
definitely gets
lost on me.

But he's fascinating
nonetheless
cuz i don't
know guys like him:
sliding off his
elaborate
black leather
coat to reveal
bare shoulders
(at 3am)
in a white undershirt
out of season.

Later, i eye him
again from my
bus seat
as he smokes
one last pre-board
cigarette and i
see him easy to
smile and do
repartee,
relaxed and
genuine,

and i turn
away with
a nod, accepting
that a young
male Greyhound
passenger
fashionista
can actually
also be nice
and
unpretentious.


copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez