The Poet in the Subway

Seated in the station
At a table he had brought,
A poet (as his sign announced)
Typed poems that he had wrought.

His hands were ready at the keys
To tap out a request;
Just choose a topic and you’d hear it
In his words expressed.

He offered me his email list;
I added my address.
Without disclosing what I do,
I wished him much success.

I had no need for what he’d write
And so I headed home,
Delighted that he’d given me
A subject for my poem.