Reader in a hat by the door.
Like her, the musician on the way to work, I want to be able to look at a piece of paper and have music playing in my head.
It’s coming from the right, between him and the obnoxiously dirty wall.
At the last station. He’ll stay there for another journey up on six.
Transferring - transferred.
Slick ride to Jamaica.
Blue guitar bringing Bowie underground.
When under is above, ground.
Don’t advice pulling
Flexing for the incoming train.
An older Stussy waiting with a cane.