We’re the only ones who get off
in New Haven. Sure, I have a smoke.
You light up. It’s raining
and we say so: Look at that rain,
we say, the rain blowing in
as the train pulls away to change
engines. Getting us wet, rain doing
its job. I tell you what they’re doing
with the train. How it’s changing. How
to get back on. You know that but
I tell you anyway. So you broke up
with your girl in Springfield. So
you’re headed back to Philly. So you
had words with her. Did you ever meet
a happy woman? Should I tell you
it’s a black/white situation?
We’ve got something in common, whatever
that is, two guys, smoking in the rain,
the twilight fog, confidants
between trains. The rain, like us,
like I said, the rain doing its job.