cassie chicago

she sat, we sat, i sat

on the train... wondering

why we were in iowa... laughing

at old mens pickup lines...

and she-males getting high...

at other stuff too lame

to mention here.



i thought, she thought, we thought

of everything that went wrong

with being born in the second week

of a stubborn october



thoughts of past, linking together

as one story to the next...

i guess no one ever knows

who you'll run into on a train



so cassie, here's the poem

i said i would write you

on that second week

in a stubborn september



it's a poem about us

and that wierd bed-headed guy

(well that really doesn't pertain)

um... where was i?



ah, yes! poetry is the poetry

of a train ride thru the corn

we cry hug and giggle...

and a friendship is born.



Copyright 2005 by pauly hart

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