Casual Commuter

poems of a los angeles commuter

[thecasualcommuter]

Sidewalk Sex Stare

Walking down the sidewalk, Women are layered in clothing, Nothing showing, Even with this weather boiling.

But you stare without care, Playing gross guessing games in your head.

Oh sir, you are too old to repair.

I slow my pace, As I can see your face. This can’t really be your fate.

Your arrogance as a woman passes by is a disgrace to all mankind. I refuse to pass you by, I refuse to be dehumanized by your eyes,

So I stay behind, Until you finally walk inside.

- Hillary Bosarge

[thecasualcommuter]

A Poopy Poem

Oh poop under my shoe, What do I do with you?

I'm stuck on this train, And your smell has my nose going insane.

There are no hoses, There are no spouts. There isn't even a puddle in this drought.

I must go back home, I must pass the scene, In order to rid my shoes clean.

I'm positive you are not from a cat, Neither are you from a resident rat.

I do not want to say, As I am embarrassed enough. This feces I met was not from a downtown pup.

The subway is not a place for your disposal, It is a place for all to be mobile.

Oh why, Oh my goodness why, Did you poop on that side? And how did I not smell you as I walked by?

Now, late to my employer I will arrive. Oh poop under my shoe, What do I do with you?

- Hillary Bosarge

[cyclingandwhiskey]

[thecasualcommuter]

Yes👏👏 #hearthatla #losangeles