the epicenter

of hands shaken, drained

of blood--miserly grasps.

turning and cleaning a wheel.

a home leaving home.

passed up by a bus driver

blue at the collar like you,

pretending to respond--

but having a blowout with

schedule, while waving him

down for a solid already profiting.

despising the unrreconcilable need

that sustains him.

"an essential worker."

"heros transporting heros, right?"

understanding the de-servant

of karmic implication.

where rage should have been.

there was none, there i remained.

instead, the language of an

oldish latino man trying his best to

communicate with me.

telling me what he did ******

himself by leaving us out.

moments later he began to **** by

the right of the bus's glass waiting room.

**** splashing the pavement.