Commuting

June 27, 2006

a late bus, or maybe I am late.
6pm, trying to get on the 10.
it’s 86 degrees with a breeze.

a dealer on the corner slaps his man’s chest.
you got any blow?
his man says: no, but i’m looking.

buses and dozens pass
a backhoe blocks the middle of the sidewalk.
busy all day, it is idle now.

a man walks by and asks
got a dollar?
his eyes pierce mine as i lie:
no, just bus fare.

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