TUBED
By Matthew Rorem

“How about sexy movies?”

“I don’t want to buy anything,” I tell the annoying
guy at Port Authority.

He rummages through his Hefty bag.

“I got somethin’ in here that I just know you’re gonna
like.”

From the bowels of his sack, he pulls a brand new
package of purple and yellow striped tube socks.

“These you gotta have. Takin’ care of yourself is
something that I recommend highly. Five bucks.”

I wear a pair on the bus back to Boston.

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