On the A

It is in these thoughts
Somewhere between 2nd and Park
You demand revelation
And I feel like nothing today.

You want to identify
To feel like you know me
Or like I know you
Like no one else does,
Like no one else should,
Like no one else dares.
But I don’t.

I just glance across the subway at you
Your New York Times bestseller on display
You want to be intelligent
To be thought of as witty
To have someone compliment
Coral scarf against  
Navy blue vinyl jacket
“Oh, you’re so..”
Yeah. You are.

The truth is there is nothing
No reason
For you to impress me
Or for me to impress you
I don’t hide my face
But I don’t display my prizes for the likes of you
I hear my stop.
You search my face when I walk past
Imagining your impression on a soul such as me
Much as a painting
Imagines its impression on a canvas
But I am caught up in the brushstrokes
And you,
You are much more advertising than art.