yes, i’m a fucking dancer

this morning on the train
reading and nodding off
starting awake and looking around, out the windows
the train driver talking on his radio, out the window to workers on the tracks

a young man in the middle of the car
loose and stylish hooded pullover
large blue basketball shorts
headphones
and hightop basketball shoes, massive tongue
untied, with the laces tucked in
like was done in 1988

i would’ve been jealous then.

this morning i thought
what the fuck
who is this kid
how old is he
why is this his look

judgmental dark thoughts

then when he stood to get off the train
his posture was perfect
as he waited, one hand on a pole for support
his feet flexed and stretched and pointed
alternating right foot left foot
small stretches loosening up

a dancer

and my judgmental dark thoughts disappeared
in its place was something like admiration

why the change?

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