On a Bus Leaving a Depot in Quebec

 

 

Seated on a bus.

Headed for elsewhere.

Neon orange

strangling my arm

tooth marks stay

slowly fade

there are clocks ticking

and clocks humming

i prefer the ones that hum

they are more real

the floor drops away

i stand on solid air

nectarines taking flight

blue tires leaving streaks

on the asphalt

indicators of death pain destruction

pencils turning colors to the touch

a red sock

singing a song

about the correct procedure

for street crossing

finger inflates shrinks shrivels

buys a package of u.s. surplus cheese

a nickel a pound

and they ask me what i'm on