The bus awakes together. Soundtracks bleeding from earbuds and encousures
are unnoticed because everyone does it
I enjoy the chorus of a dosen transportations
barely recognied as genre, let alone voice.
The intent disection of a mandrian newspaper
a couple snuggled on concrette embackment
pointing to the clouds.
The wifi hicups constantly
gmail rendering emails
like secret code passed from enemy lines.
How the clouds stain acres
a richer kind of green.
The hours massage of imperfect highway,
heat of strangers arms that never greet.
Spied titles of chapters just started
through the place where headrests seperate:
The Silver Body
Dar knew that “things” mattered.
They all barbequed secert wishes.