I’m used to mendicants on streets and trains,
exposed to dirty butts and putrid scents,
implored in every way to spare some change –
in public transit I’ve experience.
But I was just accosted by a guy,
light black, soft-spoken, leaning in too close
for comfort, young and easy on the eye,
who almost begged politely – nothing gross
or loud about him, but I felt alert
and wanted him to leave. He blithely guessed
about my life. I met his eyes, gave curt
replies, my train approached, and then he stressed
“When they go low, go high.” I said “That’s good.”
He grinned and we diverged well-understood.