Mimes on the MRT

The woman in front of me waves
to the man perched
on the edge of the hard blue plastic
seat. He shrugs

Out of the the corner of my eye.
He points and points again
at me and the empty seat

Behind. I mimic the woman
             points at self and points at
door
                                                      shrug

His large eyes and frames, broad forehead sprouting
long unkempt hair

       oh god, am I miming at a mad man

Our unrehearsed recital runs smoothly
as the train point wave shrug point wave
shrug until the doors open and
spews is stomach's contents upon the world.

Because everyone wants a seat until
someone offers it.

Labels: impromptu, personal, poetry