1709

BRIGHT LANES STORY PLAQUE

Throwing the ink onto the straphanger,
I am liberated
From the cassette tape and into gazzosa

The surly ruddy
Companionshiplessness

Of nothing to declare,
The sharp teeth of night's
Census takers

Exhorting the leaves to detach already

And though I may never ride public transit
During the next state of emergency
I imagine I will cling to the side of the moving bus

With just enough presence of mind
Not to record the event
With a ball-point pen found on the curb.