public in transport

You take it running
The M 13 is artery and vein
Home, garden, tea
stolen toilet paper from
convention space mid route.

The M 13 has a heart beside the numbers
Painted red, most likely.
Five men in the driving cabin, one driving
Two reading a paper,
One yelling the stops
One sitting in his lap.

One woman in window seat
Turns from breeze and gestures with her arm

A handspan from elbow
Her forearm bones in high relief
Take quarter circle turn
Bone meets bone improbably
Blue against her brown, tattooed numbers

We watch the milk stands,
Carts of grapes and wedding lights
A bus above it all


In Bombay the trains breathe
Sighing gently dripping people
Sitting knee to standing knee.
One women in the middle
Sways alarmed. Quiet face
Not joking in this world
Of women before dinner.
One hand overhead
Grips rail and single cauliflower
White against the din.