Give-up Gloria on the Reserved Seat

Opposite, Stand-up Stacey smiles like a popsicle

in a trash bag. Beside, fat-assed with meaning,
old auntie glares like an old man missing a testicle,
says with her eyes, “Hey kid, how unbecoming –”

Regressed in rhapsody, I bite a retort –
Fat Stacey can break her glasses, chew on daisies
and the station wouldn’t hear a stop-train report
going off. “Auntie, you buy your veggies

standing up, comb afternoons at the market
for hot deals. Right now my legs are wobbling
like tofu. My buttocks have lost their bucket
of firmness. Can you stand your grandson hobbling

on crutches?” Curiously, Thought tendered its resignation
letter; my Heart stood up, as if by obligation –