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