THE BUS

The girl & her mother
Are riding on the bus
I like riding the bus too
Because the bus driver
Was nice to me
Like in a 1950’s movie

I like the girl’s eye glasses
And her dreamy demeanor
The way she would sigh
Once in awhile
Leaning against her mother
Against that suspicious look

When I ride the bus
I like how you can see
The people walking on the sidewalks
The shops with their esoteric numbers
And their symbolic names

I like the way I can see
Through the windows
Without worrying about
Crashing & dying

I like the way the girl
Was looking at me
With glassy eyes
A peaceful face
A tender presence
Just how I would imagine
My own daughter

I like being on top of the bus
Sitting on the bus
Standing on the bus
Walking away from the bus
Walking towards the bus

The bus tried to kill me and it failed
And your eyes my frail miracle
Make for the beauty of
All the world’s children

Tell you mother to lighten up
Tell her that you love her
Tell her to love you back
Tell her how you feel
Teach her to feel like you do

At the end of the day
As I sat in the taxi
In a different country
With different people
And stronger feelings and
I saw you & your mother
Walking towards the east