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On the bus lament


On the bus lament

mostly waiting for a backache

a bathroom break

away from stale air
full of
travel mites and headache boring microbes twisting up a migraine

How picturesque is anything through a greasy window
Seasoned with the smell of old smoke
a dash of fresh vomit

Flanked by a thousand ghosts
Rolling and whining
one else’s

About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

4 responses »

  1. You artist, you! Not only the poems, but now the pictures! I liked the boring microbes part. (but not if all of this is real to you. !)

  2. You have such an imagination – not having ridden in years, but you nailed the long bus ride! The stale air, the backache, the no-bathroom-break, the greasy windows, the smells… oh, boy… this is why Greyhound is no longer thriving.


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