Brooklyn Bound M Train x 7:27 PM

I coasted from the back of the last to the second from last car.
Passing Kathy and her Pink Audio Earmuffs.
Through steel doors handled by yanking steel handles.
Illegally acrossing the threshold.

The black man now sitting next to me peered at me.
Hands; fingers intertwined. 
Pinky ring shit upon right hand.
Trader Joe bag on lap.

He's suited in:  Grey sweat shirt. White IPod earplugs.

His eyes closed as not to be in this world,
Because in this world, earplug listening pleasure is measured against nada.

Across from us sits a big ass grown kid.
Yankee fitted. Burgundy Nintendo DS--at best;
His 300+ pounds nesteled into denim.
Brown Bag.  Nike ACG Winterboot Swag.

H'was (He was) once along.  One man maintaining two seats spaces.
Yet, at Essex, a couple boarded.
He, found a place for his lady to sit,
But not before glancing at me.

Either he wanted me to get up or to teach me something?
He only taught.

The couple conversed.  A Chuck Taylor of sorts.

Him standing.  Umbrella in back left pocket....
Brown leather jacked hanging on to his broad shoulders.
Leaning against the carts back doors.
Best foot forward.

She sits.
Face as if, it's anticipating his next collection of words....
She's clutching a Big Bean Cook Book.

Gladly this cook took a seat,
Because Lord knows her hands will manifest recipes from this,
Lap and warm-arm cradled Bean Bible.

Survival coudl be complimented by rice----nice.

Adjacent to them, on the left,
Two men text. 

One potbellied hippie....
Who sits quickly as the Marcy Avenue doors magnetize it's collecton of humans outwards....

Now....

He who was on the right of me is now on my left.
Dress shoes.  Brown coordinated pinstripe trousers.
His body language affected by train movements as well as congruent cellular doings.

(This is Lorimer)

8 exit...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1........

One purnt orange jacket Hispanic is left to stand at the door's edge.
Living.
Black work pants and boots....
Black plastic bag for his lunch-not-finished.
Gifts from friends of Spanish lineage or whatever boat floats;
This is a mechanical river running thru it.

Flushing is where he is flushed out.
Into the bowels of the Bedford-Stuyvesant city streets.

(Myrtle Broadway is next)
The gentleman 4 people down and 1 bench across resembles Swizz Beats

Defeat has beaten his shoes, so his kick game isn't resembling the Swizz feet,
Fantastic like when Swizz met the "Right Keys".

I jumpshot out of the train doors........S.W.i.S   7:43