978

Now I'm back, flashing light
And shaking car telling me
It's the A at about 9 a.m.
On Christmas Eve, umbrellas
Earphones and shopping bags
The lifeboat I crawl into and
Out of, for yea, I don't know
Any of these people and for their part
Observe some of the same rites
That make this common deal less weird:
Avoiding eye contact but not strenuously.
For two dollars extending peculiar space
An over- or underheated room of time marks.
I'm pulling up my coat, relaxed and alone.