
Watch the Gap
A New York found-language poem
The next station is—
Nathan, sit down,
Jingle bells jingle bells,
Jingle all the way,
Mommy, that's my school!
This is perfect sweater weather,
Shop and save, shop and save,
Fifteen dollars for an omelette?
I’m sitting on a huge pile of equity,
Will you stop? I’m eating,
You get to go to this beautiful place,
It’s not my beautiful place,
The Rolls Royce of all the islands,
I’m bored to death,
Likewise. Keep in touch,
Please exit through the rear door.
Susan Thomsen, draft 2025
The Poetry Sisters collective invited everyone to write an "overheard and eavesdropped" poem for this Friday, and this is one I had on ice, waiting for the right time. Voilà! It's composed entirely of things I heard in New York; I live close by and am there often. I write the lines down on paper (using the phone is too clumsy and time-consuming), and eventually transfer these scrawled "verses" onto the computer. When I have a lot, I pick and choose and rearrange them into shape. A while back I wrote a guide for creating these poems.
"Nathan," whoever he may be, was bouncing up and down on a MetroNorth train. Until I started making this kind of poem, I had not thought about how much instruction riders of public transportation receive, usually from the PA system but also from parents, fellow passengers, conductors, and others.
The Poetry Friday roundup for November 30th is at author Buffy Silverman’s blog.

Photos by Susan Thomsen. The mural in the lower photo is by Laura Alvarez, @bigeyesworld on Instagram.
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