so says the absence of a train (11.28.10)

I arrived here just minutes after the train had left
station was empty
except for my bones
and the initial desire to write a poem
about the sadness of the empty station
which I was doomed to sit at for two
hours until the next train

this morning, after only having slept for
three hours, I heroically walked five
miles to catch the southbound train
because my bike has a flat

last night I carried a small,
watercolor painting in the
back pocket of my jeans
in hopes of giving it to a girl
that I’m into
I’d painted it earlier in
the night as a birthday gift

Sometimes I seem to paint myself
as a weather-beaten wanderer
downtrodden
other times I’m a joyous, free-spirit

a little bit of hustling here and there
helps me get where I need to go
or rather, get what I want

I paint others as well
but tend to focus mostly on
the development of myself
as a character

my approach is to make poetic decisions
and I’d like to be appreciated
    as a work of art

I find my self importance to be
embarrassing and distracting

I recognize the illusory nature of myself
at the same time that I concern myself
with it’s well-being and appearance