For some reason, every awkward/terrifying/bizarre thing that happens to me when leaving work gets turned into a silly, traditional poem. Don't know why. Just run with it. There's this woman who walks up and down Massachusetts Avenue near my office, carrying a mirror out in front of her and admiring herself while she walks. I always just assumed she was insane (and that her vanity happened to be a side product of said insanity), and let her walk along her merry way, insanity and all. And mirror.
That is, until this past Thursday, when she assaulted me on my way to the train (on my way to the airport, on way to DC, on my way to another train, on way to Cadillac Carl and his Crimson Cadillac Company, on my way to Maryland for a wedding, on my way to a bus in New York City, on my way back to Boston. But I digress). "Liar!" she screamed, "You are liar! Liar! You bad! Evil Liar! LIAR!" etc., etc., with a bloodcurdling shrillness that was so wretched that it actually gave me goosebumps and left me shaken up for the next half hour. I don't frighten easily, but having a crazy Asian lady with a mirror run at you screaming "Liar!" like you just raped and murdered her family — well, that can be a little intense.
So naturally, I immortalized her madness in a poem. Enjoy!