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Carly Simon and clouds
in my coffee

take sips from the transit radio
of the train

I hopped on five minutes
ago
the seats of the train old
but refurbished like

someone’s grandma
went to town
had a field day
bleach up and down
side to side

side to side
my eyes dart

my eyes expecting
clouds

but no

clear skies the captain
says

I like this captain
he’s new so you know
the deliverance through
the storm

sounds fancy, right?

well, it is
fancy and fine
fine as frog’s hair

he says

I look down at yesterday’s
paper it speaks to me
read in the captain’s
voice the words
changing growing
disappearing appearing

rewritten

captain of the skies
clear as can be

wielder of the pen
the past unwritten.

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