If, while journeying, there are 10 vacant seats
and someone comes sits with you,
talk to them with your elbows,
fall on them at the slightest possibility
of application of brakes.
Feel hungry, buy a sandwich on the way,
the one that is a struggle to hold,
drop ketchup on their shirt;
if you write you have the additional option
of ink: draw, yes draw, post modern text,
and don’t say sorry.
Make them realise it was a bad,
perhaps their worst, decision to sit with you.
Unless the journey is that of life,
and the magnitude of its length, accordingly.
In which case, be grateful to them.