Poems by Michael Brownstein

THREE WOMEN ON THE SUBWAY, CHICAGO, MAY 12, 2014, MORNING RUSH HOUR

She opens her narrow face into a yawn,
“The Scream,” and behind her,
a second woman with perfect blue eyes,
a model’s blouse,
thinks of last night’s lover,
her mouth a crescent moon
upside-down,
her nose wrinkling into a dagger.
Next to her,
a woman with skin as white as notepaper,
hair black black,
studies her hands,
eyes wide open,
asleep,
and next to me
a woman sits to share my seat
wearing a thick wool coat on a warm spring day,
a coat made of sweat.
I do not count.

Michael H. Brownstein has been widely published. His latest work, Firestorm: A Rendering of Torah (FIRESTORM:A RENDERING OF TORAH MICHAEL H. BROWNSTEIN) was published by Camel Saloon Books on Blogs. His work has appeared in The Café Review, American Letters and Commentary, Xavier Review, Hotel Amerika, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Pacific Review, and others. In addition, he has nine poetry chapbooks including The Shooting Gallery (Samidat Press, 1987), Poems from the Body Bag (Ommation Press, 1988), A Period of Trees (Snark Press, 2004), What Stone Is (Fractal Edge Press, 2005), and I Was a Teacher Once (Ten Page Press, 2011: http://tenpagespress.wordpress.com/2011/03/27/i-was-a-teacher-once-by-michael-h-brownstein/). He is the editor of First Poems from Viet Nam (2011).