"Yo Maria" (rewrite)

Coming home from a brilliant but somber
friend's reading in Brooklyn. The "F" train
dips under the East river like a shark and
I'm reminded of that somber humorist,
Herman Melville.
The florescent light make the car morgue
like. I am alone except for a nude "Maria"
crudely etched into the stainless steel wall.
Her legs are invitingly open.
"Yo Maria," I say above the rail screech.
I think of lines by Ferlinghetti--"They are
cutting out the Bay ferries but it's not too late
to get lost in Oakland." Well, I think, I have
Maria. Therefore I am not lost. And she is
showing me the world.