The Bus

Heres a happier one. Enjoy.


Your eyes are quite enchanting
The hens egg speckles between the green
And trip up over them
But I'm sitting on your lap

The wind strokes my cheek
I tell him 'no'
My cheek is his
His to touch
And the wind strikes me maliciously!
Jealous, jealous wind

As you kiss my hot cheek
Woman in the bus stop smiles at me
Her hair lifting -
It smiles too
She knows the feeling that blooms
In my head and
in my heart

Is that your bus?
You ask, lips so rosy red
With my kisses
Oh no
thebushascame--
My thoughts stack up
Like my mothers washing basket

So my legs take a life of their own
And run and run and run
I love you!
I shout
Then my mind she
S-tutt-e-rs

Wait, no I dont!

The silver aviators greet me as
I place my Queens Head on the plastic
And swing around the STOP button
To see your smile and
How your speckles laugh
As you nod in reply

Cry

You never thought
The sound of a baby cry
Would die,
Did you?

That the laugh
Of playing children
Would cease to be

Yet now the loss
It racks our lungs
The silence...
Death, sorrow, despair.

Gunshots
Fire at empty houses
People
Cowering like mouses
Grey balloon of poison
Fills the air

Through the violence and the sorrow
People think
'Whats the use in tomorrow?'
For some it will never come

But to this woman,
It does
A piercing cry, she fills the air
Paired with the stench of mourning everywhere
Oh, through the sadness
A babys cry,
A babys wail
No longer is there sadness,
'tis still.