Today I saw a cyclist in a suit,
and yesterday I heard three college kids
discussing penis, brooking no dispute:
dimension matters. Decency forbids
me naming names, but just last week I caught
a glimpse of him and her in full embrace
who shouldn’t be together, and I thought
to further fancy and avert my face.

I live where people walk. I often ride
the rapid transit railway, ferry, bus.
My day isn’t begun until I’ve spied
on sixteen strangers, heard them speak or fuss.
I’m caught by clothes or cadence, turned by phrase:
just marveling
at witnessing
these days.