this guy beside me the one on my right
with the camel blazer complete with
corduroy elbow patches and
checkerboard leather buttons

he looks like he has a score to settle

he's mostly bald under his
brown-wool newsboy cap
i know because the spot
it dips pretty low in the back

his face is baby smooth but
he has polluted all of our nostrils
with cheap aftershave fumes
you cannot not notice the lurid air

he has accumulated a great wealth
of america's prized possession
and he wears it proudly around his midsection
he must have a hundred pounds there

his dark slacks are clean but old
his white shirt is pressed but polka dotted
with coffee stains the same hue
as his yellow teeth

he looks as if
he is trying very hard
to make an impression
but something has happened

his furrowed forehead
looks like waves lining up
readying to break themselves
on the shoreline of his brow
and there's a storm cloud casting facial shadows
as it floats above his too-dark eyes
while his cheek twitches and i notice
a tangible jaw tension as thick as london fog
showing through his weighted jowls

i wonder what's wrong

i hope he's ok

i cast him a smile

and i'm on my way