I still won't wear a winter hat


Liam Day



but I'm no longer so stubborn I'll wait

ten minutes on a wind-swept platform

when I can sit in the station and at the

approaching trolley's clang run for it,

hop two rails, spill coffee from a Styrofoam

cup, with no napkin, just a tongue to lick

clean my wrist and hand so I might

dry them on my jeans and not stain

the denim, maybe draw a condescending

snicker from the college girls headed

out for the night, though I'm well

past the age they'd notice or at which

I feel the need to impress women

with cool indifference, when I'd have

endured bitter cold before an

undignified sprint to catch a trolley.