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Charming Blather Mar 2018
I like the way I hate the Boston metro subway train.
It's actually called The T, I think short for train, but
I know it doesn't matter much to me anyway. I like the way that
subway train sounds: The Screech, The Dust, The
"HEY! Do not touch my ****!" The question:
"How could they possibly have put another advertisement up there?"
There's a person at the counter saying "ma'am, your ticket didn't go through" and there is a baby crying
and someone else who's rich and
probably, they're whining.
There's a person reading something and I crane my head to look
and I'm disappointed it's just another stupid John Grisham book. It's all the same:
the way I like to hate the Boston metro subway train.
Joseph Hart Jan 2016
And tell me why I make such fuss
About a boy across from me sitting on the bus,
I try to keep his features running in my head
Such lust is a spiritual death.
I could not agree more but his style,
Costs my eyes a side dart and a red smile,
But something I tell you that I really must
Talk to this boy sitting next to me on the bus,
Maybe he thinks something of me, it goes to show, I can't stop staring he probably knows,
Or I am something unnerving to him,
What if I am?
Where would I meet him sometime,
Our only crossroad is a bus jam
Packed with everybody going back and forth,
But I cannot keep your face straight, what's the worst?
I hope you someday will talk to me,
But hope is not my reality.

— The End —