Showing posts with label colombia pike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colombia pike. Show all posts

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Villain

this bus on the corner, rarely, if ever, looks to stop;
you have to wave it down or step forward before it rides past.

she was wearing sunglasses that day,
it was sunny and hot and bright, so
she was wearing them to shield her eyes
from the bright and hot sun.

when the bus with its compressed air braking system
stopped with a puff and huff and gradually lowered itself to the curb,
and the doors opened with a jerk and inward swing,
she balked and gave no intention of walking on.

as this bus, as previously asserted, had a penchant and reputation
among the boarders at this particular corner
not to stop on most occasions, the other potential riders,
who were edging nervously behind the sunglassed girl,
wasted no time for opportunity to board,
moving around her and jumping on, scanning cards
and taking a desired seat.

I was one of those riders, though I determined to stand.

After the bustle, you could hear the driver's audible and
inwardly directed, "sorry about that, ma'am,"
and her equally audible and inwardly directed, "that's okay,"
return, as she stepped on.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Braided sunlight on cement

gooey night lights
of columbia pike are lit by
morning crisp spring
sunlight, twisted dust
and particles smaller'n
bleary wake up eyes can see
glint and dance reflecting
subliminal views of heaven
into the dreamy visions of
passers-by, a roman à clef
starring the barely fictional
life of gray crumbling streets,
heavy, weighted pavement
wavers, chips, bends, breaks
winters freeze and thaw, 
grizzled fists and battered ice, 
snakes like a dried up riverbed
past homes stacked upon its edges
that stretch and yawn, shaking
of grim winter hibernations
what is real and what is not?
twisted to never know and never tell,
there's a thin film of what's supposed to be,
like what day it is? what time
exact? what faces wait for
green lights, heavenly lights?

in the corner of a book
in the library of the world,
there's a story somewhere
somehow beautiful,
somewhat restrained,
like wispy dandelions in
the celestial breeze,

wssshhhing hwwaafssh frwwsssh
blinking winking fwwssssss aow aow