Since the previous post is about After Hours, I thought it appropriate to post a poem of mine that was published by Al DeGenova and P. Hertel in After Hours in 2002.
Transported
Riding home from
the orthodontist
on the crowded
Lawrence Avenue bus,
my body swaying to its stops
and lurches, holding
the sweaty metal pole,
I stood before
an old man,
his gray cement eyes
set on me so
I smiled,
imagining I
was brightening his day,
until he looked at me square
and pronounced,
“Idiot.”
© Ellen Wade Beals
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