A trio on the train, two on the left blacked out: they looked like numbers
One, petite, took up half
The blue plastic seat, head back, flashing the world the back of his
Front tooth, deformed, roof of mouth low, oddly compromising.
Zero, overflowing his jeans, his shirt, his jeans that could fit
Both of his companions into the legs, passed out, leaning on the other
One, still conscious, sharp, reluctantly kind, talking to a girl
Who was used to making demands, entitled to attention from the
Opposite gender (it was her right).
Someone announced she was hungry.
The middle guy slept on, his swaying and jerking coming to a
Rest upon someone’s shoulder. The guy with the head on his shoulder,
Too polite to push him away. The other, head fighting the urge to anchor, the call to
Land, to stop the swaying, mouth wide open.
Then the stop came. The guy ignored the girl, leaned over: the
Drawling mouth easy to close, not the other though. Slapped his chest,
Sounded like slabs of steak thrown onto the chopping board.
Raw. Unconscious but breathing. The two of them carried him, one
Under each arm, dragging him out, like the ends of the thin stick
To hoist the kill, limbs tied together, the boar.
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