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street performer

The Busker

The puppeteer darted in and had his black cloth strung waist-high,
pole to pole across the Métro car, before the doors even closed.
We were standing to the front of the carriage but a bit behind him
and could see only his right side, where a tattered tricorn-hatted Punch,

Mime Magnet

I wonder. Yes, I’m looking up as I say this,
I wonder if I do have a superpower. Maybe
I have more than one aspect of attraction,
this knack for drawing others in close, almost
touching me.