Love Poem for the man on the train who stole my sandwich

I remember you running
Down the railway
And how you
Leaped over the turnstile
And dash away with my heart
And my sandwich
(That was my lunch you know).

I remember your coattails
Flapping in your wake
Waving goodbye to me enthusiastically
I should have slipped my phone number
In your coat pocket
That way
You would call me
And I could find out who you are
And where you were
And get my sandwich back
(That was my lunch, you know).

Too bad the police didn't know
That they were chasing after you
For only a few thin slices
Of measly turkey
And limp lettuce
And one tomato
With suspicious purple spots

I remember your big brown eyes
And how smart they looked
Well...
I hope they water
When you taste
The spicy mustard I put on it.
The sandwich, I mean
Not your eyes.

Here's my number.
Call me
Sometime
Mr. Turkey Sandwich Stealer
From the A-Train.
Because I do believe
I have fallen in love with you

But mostly,
I just want my sandwich back
(That was my science project, after all).