Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Personal Space

by Lori Lipsky

What a surprise you’ve never learned
No matter how many times you bump your
Tray into mine, you will reach the front
Of the cafeteria line at the same time

Unfilled seats abound
At the movie theater, but
You sit directly in front of me and
Drape your coat back so it hangs on my knees

One restroom stall occupied
Twenty still available
You choose the one
Closest to me

In the long line for the cashier
You hit my backside with your
Cart seven times
As we wait

Empty lockers at the gym
Are in plentiful supply
You pick the one
Adjacent to me

Groups of available chairs
Are open at the concert
You plop down
Right beside me
Must your hip touch my hip?
Must your shoulder rub my shoulder?
We’ve never met—the rule on a bench ought to be
Three inches on either side

Another moan squelched
You should hear my thoughts
A scream right now would
Lighten the load