The ugly girl

I watched the women in their short skirts
look up from their magazines and then away
when she squeezed in with the rest of the crowd
crossing the platform from the express.
The doors closed and she stood back
from everyone, holding her books
in front of her so no one
would touch her and then
have to say anything. I watched her -
the ghost of her face in the window
watching the tunnel the whole way,
as if where we had left
or where we were going
mattered as much to us
as to all the other pretty faces.

Mark Aiello