hopping off in Philly

the man

next to me on the train

sticks

out his arm

and rolls up his sleeve.

there's a long

oozing

cut from his elbow

to his hand.

his shirt is red with blood.

do you think this is

infected? he says.

i inch away,

looking out the window

of the packed

car.

yes, i tell him.

you should have that looked

at.

i see the sign

for the Delaware bridge

and wonder if i should

get off in Philadelphia.

not my stop,

but the next stop on

the way.