toothless junkies
rifle through trinkets
hearts leaking tar
onto the bus’s gummed out floor
hoodied heads bow
begging for a break
or a stake in the heart
or a steak
half burnt trees flay flash by pray for one less day
dogs chase
the beat up clunker yellow
gnashing blindly
at the machinery
screaming dust
in the world’s
face
I hate Mondays
4/19/11