Gettin' Poetic

Timing

I noticed
when she got on the bus
that she was
a little ghetto.

She sat down next to me;
the fingers on her crossed arm
gently rested
on my scribbling elbow
I looked up at her touch
& noticed
that she was a little cute.

Pondering a word
I gazed just above the page
& saw her kicks
were the same as mine.
The glimpse of those
black-on-black Air Force One Mids
made me think
that maybe we could get to stomping
off together somewhere.

I looked at her & said
"You have good taste in shoes."
She looked down
as if to see
what made hers so special.
Then she saw mine
& laughed
& said, "Thanks."
& she reached for the yellow tape.

She missed,
I saved her
& she smiled.
She said, "Thanks again."
I shrugged & smirked
& said, "No prob."