Bus notes
By: M. MacMinn
Sandals on the sidewalk, abandoned
left, forgotten, lost
As if the owner was snatched
kidnapped, abducted
A stranger kicks them off the street
in the grey of morning
Lost on a bus, filled with children
Floating in a steel box, surrounded
Robot voices penetrate the air, like tacks in flesh
Anonymous conversations invade my psyche
The sun is shinning and the fat are sunburned
this day is never ending
Like the poor man next to me
dying of some random disease, slowly
very slowly
Useless conversation,
we should discuss the weather next
www.markmacminn.com
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