On the bus
in the back
behind the
businessmen
beneath the bright
lights beyond
the high school
boys � digging into
you on the bus
in the back
begging for more
behind the bouncing
babies and mothers
beneath the bright
lights of NYC
slipping into you
on the bus
in the back
bodies bitten
by darkness
under the river
in the tunnel
on the bus
in the back
Jersey slides
by blurred
highways our
bloodstreams
crossing states
knuckles scratched
on belts unbuckled
on the bus
in the back
besides the world
driving by
fingers
soaked with
asphalt and tar
can�t figure out
where we are going
on the bus
in the back
blame remains
unnamed.
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