as explosions in the sky build on my ipod 

you bob your head cross the aisle 

at first i think i'm magining 

coffee prolly hasn't kicked in 

but others start to turn as your movements intensify 


you put your shoulders into it 

hips twist with the synthesizer 

the lurch of the brakes 

a snare you tap your heel to 

i sneak a glance at your government photo 

your face stoic, you work in the mail room 


finger lingers over the button 

to request a stop at heron and riverside 

flower tights with jacket to your knees 

something makes you crazy beautiful 

though perhaps a bit too tall 


and when you press the oblong button 

to leave me behind and start your work day 

won't you someday again 

dance clumsily thru the shroud of my morning?

© a.m. kozak