Subway

There is this woman
On the platform
Shouting
In the subway
Swearing
Spitting out
Her bitterness
Calling out
Passersbys
In a demanding
Urgent necessity
To be listened to

A homeless woman
With a big supermarket bag
I think it may contain
All that she possesses
A woman around fifty I would say
But I'm not sure
And I wonder
What her story is
And what's her life
Does she have children?
A husband?

Her speech is not meaningless
It speaks words of tiredness and anger
I spontaneously see it as Munch's Scream
Born out of
A deep despair and solitude
On the edge of a certain form of madness
From which you  do not come back
A borderline state
An uncontrolled self-exposure
An implosion/explosion
In the heart of the unknown crowd

Passerbys: some watching, curiously
Others: trying to avoid her incriminating look
Each one has become an enemy
To her merciless judgement
And her firm opinions
Some, trying to talk to her
In vain
Some smiling,
Others, maybe not even seeing her
And me, watching them all
Both belonging to the scene
And external to it
The external eye
like a stranger
Although in the heart of it
Thinking
Writing

(Photo: Diane Arbus -  A flower girl at a wedding, conn. 1964)