2C Franklin to Central
April 26th, 2006
By Archived Story
(Ago)
The first time I rode a school bus
I cried and clutched and nearly lost my way
And the teacher said maybe it would take me
Where I needed to go
And my parents were not at home.
(Today)
City buses don’t have to stop if you look like indecision.
Cradling indecision has creased my face
So I wave to the bus to spotlight my intention
Slouch of weary seat
Uncommitted to my goal of passing with direction
I pull the cord twice to unload.
(Evening)
Less than my want to venture out
Is my want to retreat defenseless, undecided
To books and spiteful comments hurled to walls
I must define as comfort
Lest the bus take me both ways to homelessness.
I pull the cord once and step off.
(Tomorrow)
I can settle my differences with bus rides
If one way, just one, will be home.
