Beige pigs in long wigs

 


I hear her and her
cronies snorting
and laughing on
four seaters

so I went over,
leaning against
her chair like
some villain
she expects
us to become

told her i'm joining in
on the conversation,
knowing I overheard
her talking about me

her three friends look
down at the floor as
the train rolls into
London St Pancras

as she continues
to deny discussing
about me soon as
I stepped aboard
this rush hour train,

I repeat word
for word out loud
how she believes
i'm one of these
'transgenders'

how she couldn't
tell what I was, how
she couldn't wrap
her head around
why we have to
use pronouns

with a stank
face scanning
up and down
my exterior,

she says i'm
coming across
too aggressive

so I asked her
where she was
headed towards,

she sheepishly
answers that
she's going
back to little
old Cambridge

I said good, stay  
in blue blooded
provincial town

because many
people on this train
may sit in silence

but they don't
appreciate
your kind
here.