reintroducing the regular


Public Transportation

I don’t know about y’all but TYPICAL thought 2016 needed some poetry. If you are challenging yourself to be more present, then check out our first post of the year and feel all the feels with us.



There’s a map of the city
And a photo of a guitar, or a piano, or a violin
There’s definitely a swipe of 90s art, somewhere
There’s a gross indifference

(To the lady with the 17 years of abuse on her face
And the man with a million worries carved into his forehead)

There are tennis shoes and backpacks
And buzz cuts and braids and svelte fades
Grins and grimaces and skin tones in every shade
There are dreams and dread-filled eyes and sighs
And lonely hugs and heaviness
And hearts as huge as the western plains
As huge and twice as dry

But most of all

(Even more than the grime and the wasted time)

Are the signs
Block letters, white, flanked with red
Marking the stops With everything important left unsaid
Like what lies between
And when to get off.


The figures mirrored in the glass
Lying like a shallow puddle over tracks flying past
I see them for the first time

Because the faces from moments ago
As we shuffled on together, shoulders touching
Were blank to me, blank and blind and empty

But seeing you like this…
The back of your arm, strong/tired
Your bracelet, your hijab

The mystery of your face
Features forgotten from seconds before
Is somehow so compelling


Marching through these decades
Like the ageless chords of every tear-filled chorus
These men and women saunter and sway
And sweet-talk their way through
crisis after triumph after tragedy after rapture

With hands clinging to other hands
Caressing little foreheads
Gripping heavy loads and folding into pockets

With firmly set jaws
And bodies built for endurance
And laugh lines flowing like so many tributaries into
one grand river

These givers of life
receivers of life
Really, at their core,
Humming the same tune:

Typical Mag