Empty Seat

The train was

Packed and I was

Yet another sardine

Among sardines of

Varying degrees of

Size, shapes, official

Titles etc.


And in sardine silence

I swam in the scentless

Scene, arriving in the



I never find a seat

But right in front of

Me was a seat, full

In its emptiness


And I saw who was

In the seat next to

The empty one


He was tall, black

And wore a gray

Jumpsuit that hadn’t

Jumped into a washing



(that’s how it appeared, anyhow)


And I sat and looked at the

Sardines hanging from

The metal poles as the

Train ground into the tracks


And the man next to me

Leans his head into the

Window as the city passes

Him like a dream


And I smell his

Life suddenly

From where there was

Once an empty seat


Its smell

Is strong


Nobody wants

To hear its



Nobody wants

To smell its



Nobody wants

That empty



© 2016 Tony Robles


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