Day 317: Buyer's Remorse?

Do you ever wish
You'd abstained from getting that
Tattoo of Gumby?

It took up his entire arm. I feel like that's the kind of thing where you wake up 5 years later (or the morning after you got it), look in the mirror, and say "dear god, what was I thinking?"

Day 307: Sweating it out

Summer, a grotesque
Carnival of slick faces
And wilting costumes

The fashion show that is the New York City commute is looking decidedly bedraggled these days. Not surprising, since the mercury reached 103 by noon today.

Day 303: Rock and Roll

Grizzled metalhead
Like his Motorhead t-shirt
Has seen better days

He'd cut the sleeves off to show off his arms, which were covered in tattoos of big-haired rock stars, flames, the AC/DC logo, and an inexplicable memorial portrait of Waylon Jennings.

I was going to link to Motorhead's official site, but it's kind of scary. Not so much because of the skulls and stuff, but because those guys are pushing 70. Also, it looks like the meth is catching up with them.

Day 299: What are you looking at?

That's right, Mr. Ink
Huff and puff when people stare
At your tattooed face

While I'm sure most body art has deep spiritual and artistic significance, I have to assume that at least part of its purpose is to attract attention. If you really don't want people to gawk at your tattoo, get it on your butt.

Day 298: Snow White

Her froth of white hair
Like a crisp shiny meringue
Fresh from the oven

I would rather go snow white than gray, but I'm not sure I want my hair to move into confection-helmet territory.

Day 293: Summer fashion

That skirt would be small
On a woman half your size
On you it's a belt

Day 289: Need a tissue?

A red-eyed woman
Wipes her nose on her head scarf
Then sneezes on it

As a frequent sinus infection sufferer, I definitely know the "any port in a storm" feeling that happens when you're caught without a tissue. I've turned to napkins, stray pieces of paper, fossilized purse tissues, even large maple leaves. But I've always made on effort to clean my drippy nose with things that were not attached to my person.

Also, I really should have a tag for "hygiene." So much of my haiku involves nail clipping and nose-blowing.

Day 286: Super Fresh

Her shirt screams "SEXY!!"
And she's got a Conway bag
Full of Summer's Eve

I didn't even know they still made that stuff. Granted, she bought it at Conway, where it could have been sitting in the basement next to the mattresses since 1987.

Day 271: Fashion Sense

The last thing I see
As I drift off to sleep is
Your ill-fitting pants

I don't like pleats on men.

Day 266: LATFH

Lanky hipster boy
How'd you get those mammoth feet
Through your skinny jeans?

They must have been jeggings.

Day 262: More Unmentionables

Old school girdles and
Voluminous underpants
Sold by two old men

I forgot to mention that Mattie paid me one of the kindest compliments ever. After we'd been chatting for a long time he paused, smiled, and said "You're a very good listener. Something about you just makes me want to tell you these stories. "

Aw, shucks. Blush.

Day 255: Subway fashion

She's a mystery
Wrapped in brown, gold, cream, and teal
Showing just her eyes

I love how a woman will get on the train wearing a miniskirt, 4-inch heels, and a halter top (in 35 degree weather) and sit next to a woman wearing flowing hijab. I guess I like contrast.

Day 253: Overkill

Seven rosaries
Seem like more than enough for
One tough teenage neck

I like to think that he put the sixth enormous rosary (big wooden beads and a huge wooden crucifix) around his neck, looked in the mirror, and thought "something's missing..." Then he put on the seventh one (chunky gold with a giant faux-diamond-encrusted Jesus head) and said "that's it!"

And yes, I counted.

Day 244: Revisiting an Old Theme

If I can see where
Your tights become control top
Your shorts are too short

I know that I have addressed this issue more than once, but it seemed worth mentioning again because this time it was a guy.

Day 236: Bling

With a rock like that
I'm surprised that you don't limp
From the extra weight

I figured people with diamond rings that big took Town Cars to get around. Maybe she was slumming it -- you know, seeing how the unwashed masses live.

Day 229: Diamonds are forever

If his Jesus bling
Is all that he says it is
I'll mug him myself

After a long day of work and train trouble, I had the good fortune having to stand very close to man who picked a noisy and very one-sided fight with the train motorman. This performance culminated in an exaggerated waving of a navel-length diamond necklace with a diamond-encrusted Jesus head on it (try though I might, I can't find a picture of anything as appalling as the real thing online -- but this video is pretty close). He was loudly proclaiming that the necklace was all diamonds. Well, his actual words were "this shit's real, yo! It takes you a year to make what I make in a week!" followed by a lot of incoherent rambling and necklace-swinging. It's always advisable to yell about your valuables on a crowded subway platform.