The girl with a ring through her nose does make up, holding onto
the pole, rocking in the carriage of a District train.
Dressed in oversized Black, that familiar ugly crap discarded by
the ’80s. Had we been the same age, her confidence would’ve
cut me to a maggot, but she blinks first, unable to sustain her
fragile disdain. I grin back through the rings of her charcoal eyes,
she looks down. No animals allowed in daylight on the underground.