Читать книгу Dear Prudence - David Trinidad - Страница 28

DELETED SCENE

I was on my way to teach

a poetry workshop at Rutgers.

Penn Station, downstairs,

boarding the Trenton Local.

I’d selected a seat and

was about to sit when

a young woman slid

into it from behind

and gave me a dirty look.

There were plenty of other seats

but she’d taken the one I wanted.

It was not a good time

in my life. Ira and I had

broken up; there I was,

single at forty-six, stuck

in a noisy apartment

in the midst of SoHo’s orgy

of high-end consumerism.

I wanted to leave New York

but didn’t know where to go.

I don’t mean to

excuse myself.

A few rows ahead

I stared back at her

and I said it. “Cunt.”

Then sat down with

all my rage and shame.