the subway
i see a black woman reading the new york times
she is an older woman
dirty
with a du-rag on her head
her glasses are broken but she is still breaking through the crossword puzzle
i am intrigued and noisy enough to stare
it is yesterday’s paper
i watch her
she has three layers of clothing in august
five bags
the full newspaper edition
a red shopping cart next to her
and she is now reading the art section
i wonder why
why am i staring and feel surprised
i have seen blacks and browns read the ny times
many times
all the time
but i watch her
she is now on the business section
i never read the business section
i know she is not waiting for a train
she does not look up as they pass
i think, as i take my notebook out and board my train,
that hers is one of those red # 7
buried or dumped (is all the same)
at the bottom of the river
and that is why she can’t go home

II
She is not an immigrant
I hear her speak
She asks a man something about the next stop
She is not black or Chinese
She does not look or smell homeless
She is clean
Not high
Very well mannered
Well dressed
She maybe in her late forties
She is white
Maybe a grandmother
She is selling AA batteries for a $1.00.
I just remembered, I forgot my CD player.
I’ll write instead.

"Mango Fruit"*
I climbed up the tree to get
that pink-juicy-red mango.
I did not rush to come down or eat it.
It was mine.
I sat down under the tree
leaning against the trunk
slowly looking at my prize.
I started peeling it off with my teeth
licking the pulp under the skin.
I took the first bite.
Oh god it was sweet!
Yes, sweet and juicy it was
so juicy I felt the milky resin and juice
come down my mouth and fingers.
I sucked my fingers not to waste a drop.
I kept eating it
with my two hands
slowly
making it last for ever
savoring it whole
getting threads between my teeth
but ignoring them
just tasting it
re-tasting it
enjoying it
eating it until there was no juice on the white-hairy-seed.

*This poem was first published in Encuentro 10 poetas latinoamericanos en USA. C. Aguasaco,
J. Osorio y R. Hernandez Saavedra editores. New York, Sin Frontera Editores, 2003.

© Yoseli Castillo
Contact: cyoseli@hotmail.com