ROME

I saw you come in. I stood
By to let you and the old lady
Take your seats. The train
Lurched forward.
I balanced against the chrome
Pole by my fingertips
Trying to look elegant.

I slipped in to take my place
Next to her, across
From you. Your black shoes
Black nylons New York Times
Knees jutting out from a Herring-
Bone skirt like beacons.
I looked and Rome burned

In a day between your thighs.

November, 1993