Voyeur

There's someone (a man I assume) on the tracks

texting and looking around.

Does he know I'm watching him

in his gross-looking grey flannel

that looks like something I would have worn in the winter of ninth grade?

Who are you waiting for? 

What are you waiting for?

Maybe he's buying a dime bag

or even mushrooms (the campus is right there).

He hasn't moved in ten minutes

so I feel like he's waiting for something.

Hopefully not a train.

Come on, man, take your hood down.

He's facing me,

but even if he could see the top of my head peaking past the ottoman,

he's been staring at that phone the whole time.

White hands.

No face.