J
ustin
P
hilip
T
herrien
Cool winds rolling the soft, calm curtains. The San Francisco sun warming the destruction of the former days confusion. The prodigious prodigy trickles and tickles into my ears. The legacy craddled created comforts yet renders an array of bewilderment. This is San Francisco Screaming, bighting, Scratching, beating your senses sensless. Untill you bite your tongue to awake the dream your tongue bites your mind for your mind mistrusting it's supremacy reality. Repromanding Redemtion. Architecture flatters its artistic disposition, bay breeze barrles through the streets inhabited with burned out neon light bulb advertisements. Enticing the masses. Humoring the city with its neon radioactive emanations. Converse littering the already trash painted streets. Moreless, the street painted trash. Thousands of different people with hundreds of different problems and malfactory solutions that are inexcusable and incompatible with the crys of the paven road. Peoples faces all portrait a different level of disgust and hatred. The front of a city always bears a behind.
Perched on the side of a wall waiting for bus 33 to take me home. My stop is quiet except for the girl next to me who's eyes are as loud as a motor cycle engine. My pereferal vision sees her eyes looking at the veins on my branch like arms that seem to be providing her with a form of shade, a shade that I am ignorant to. The bus is rolling towards our stop number 33. I aburptly stand up and pick up my bag. She follows my lead and stands next to me. The bus halts and the sun smiled on her artificially colored hair; she said she likes her hair auborn. I shook my head without interest. -She knows I step slowly and cautiously into the buses' mouth. She followed my lead. The bus chewed and swallowed both of us. Somehow she landed next to me in the belly of the bus. Her dainty, slender, effeminate figure glided next to mine. Closer, even closer, until her shoulder rubbed unto mine. "Where are you going," she asks "Home," I did retort, and immediently threw my eyes out the window where stood a man who threw his directly at mine. -He knows Her tight blue jeans reveal the curve of her womanhood and it looks at my blue jeans which reveal my manhood and smiles a lustful and covetous smile. My blue jeans look back and frown with confusion. -Does she know yet? She stands up and steps off of the bus and seem furious, she looks back with still covetous eyes and says, "yes, I do know." Everyone on the bus peers and prys into the doors of my mind with curiousity but I locked those doors and through away the key at the auborn haired girl who rode bus 33.
