My sunday afternoon
to euston from crewe

was miraculously saved
by the person in front—

estranged from her boy
she lay the seat 18 before

&—humming in the sun
that potholed across

passengers—this
smell of platform coffee

; draped voluptuous
over two seats she

raised her hand up(
right) & hung it headrest

for me to’O interesting’
, manicured up smooth

knuckles soft down the
low frequencies of their

shape – & over my
morning paper I glanced

to glean the fact of her
dangled hand, the afternoon.