Subway Speeches - Poem

 The middle-aged lovers

speak French to one another

only sparingly—

their embrace does the talking,

an arm on the back

of the sub-way seat.

The Israelis use

the tongue they took,

the sound of harsh-hets against

the easy going grinding

and lulla-by jostle of the car.

They're enthusiastic, impassioned,

only God knows why.

For the young lovers, 

embrace is not enough—

their necks bear black and blue marks

which alone sing their story,

their hopes-fears and loves,

and tonight,

the man in the advertisement raises his voice—

"NEW YORK CITY'S TOP INJURY ATTORNEY:

CALL TO-DAY!" and the sleeping woman

can't or doesn't seem to hear.