The bus pulled up and I got on

It was empty, 'cept for two

A lady sitting at the front

And a man all dressed in blue

The lady sat in front alone

Her parcels by her side

The man, he stood alone in back

And I got on for my ride.

The sign in front said "Do Not Smoke"

Capacity...that's blurry

I couldn't see it from where I sat

But, I was in no hurry

I walked on up, to check it out

And read the aged old sign

It said "seating room is 63"

And standing ...twenty nine

I reached my stop and I got off

Not thinking much I guess.

But that man was still way in the back

And that lady in her dress

Was motionless up in the front,

Her parcel by her side

They hadn't moved since I got on

And it was an hour ride

Others joined us on the bus

But all were gone before

There was just these two,  still motionless

When I walked out the door.

Each day for weeks I rode this bus

And each day,  like before

The lady sat down front alone

And the man, behind the door

It never made much sense to me

He never changed his spot

It was if he were a sentinel

To guard this bus...his lot

One day I asked the driver

Why he never did sit down

He said "You must be new here"

"You can't be from this town"

I said "Why did that matter?"

He just laughed and looked at me

"It's never gonna change here"

"There's a certain courtesy"

I didn't understand him

And he never put forth more

So, I went on down the bus aways

And I sat  just by the door

I passed my stop and rode a while

While others filtered through

Then all at once the lady rose

Followed by the man in blue

She left out front, him through the back

And it left me there alone

Well, except for the old driver

So, I rode around to home

I saw as we drove past them

On our return route down the Strand

The lady and The Man in Blue

Were walking, holding hands

I thought "What gives?, they sit apart"

She forward, him in back

Now here they are together

They're a train on the same track

I asked the driver to explain

This sight that I had seen

He said "Just wait a minute"

"And it won't seem so extreme"

He stopped the bus and came to me

And he walked past the back door

"See that faded line there miss"

As he pointed to the floor

I looked real close and there it was

It was a line in pastel blue

"Now, listen here's some history"

"This is something new to you"

"Way back when, a lifetime back"

"Segregation ruled the land"

"You didn't mix outside your race"

"You would never understand"

"The line there on the floor shows"

"Where the buses made their mark"

"The white folks stood on the drivers side"

"And the back was for the dark"

"skinned folks who rode with us"

"I know it don't sound fair"

"But that's the wasy it was back then"

"I know, 'cause I was there"

"This couple...they confuse you"

"Her in front and him in back"

"Did you ever stop and notice"

"She is white and he is black?"

"But, that's not the way things are today"

I said, still unsure of these two

He said "I know, my dear"

"But this way's all they knew"

"They've been a pair for twenty years"

"They've rode this bus for more"

"When he first rode, it was so bad"

"He came through the back door"

"He couldn't get on through the front"

"They wouldn't let him pass"

"In fact once some one threatened"

"him, they would soak him down with gas"

"So he went on back, through the back door"

"And then he crossed that line"

"And he's been doing so for sixty years"

"He's done it all this time"

"I never charge them to get on"

"I charge them when they leave"

I said "I don't see them pay"

He smiled and scratched his sleeve

"I never charge them money"

"No, that just would not be right"

"I tell them to just get safe home"

"And  to have a lovely night"

"The next day when they board the bus"

"She smiles and looks at me"

"And as I look down to the back"

"I smile...and so does he"

"I know that it is different"

"But down here, it was the way"

"And this white girl and this black man"

"helped to show me shades of grey"

"He'll always ride in back there"

"And she'll be in front with me"

"But, you know that they're so happy"

"And that's why they ride for free"

Life is less fun sober
Less or more over
The legal limit
That double digit
Makes me so legit
Right...?
Slamming back a brew
Just me and my crew
So drunk my mind flew...
But so did you.
Gone.
What's gone wrong?

there is a woman
who drives
the bus I take to school in the morning
I always wonder, more often than not
why she works on a bus
it must be tedious and boring
running the same route over and over again
dealing with girls like me
who
more often than not
forgot their money
she is pretty, young
wears expensive sunglasses
but she drives the high school bus
full of loud, rude kids
instead of something
she would find more
appealing.
but maybe she likes the repetition, the change
the power of driving us each day
maybe she relishes our little lives
in her hands
which grip the steering wheel
as she navigates the streets
maybe she enjoys the challenge
of wide turns and
negotiating her way through the streets like
an overweight pedestrian
on a busy sidewalk

Drowning in the sauce
I sink to the bottom of the bottle

Rage fueled inferno
Explodes with ever sip

Blacked out visions can't see a thing
Abandoned in the second and lost

Seven hundred fifty gone in an hour
Lives turned upside down and split

Total carnage and all my fault
Don't remember a thing

Lights flash, sirens scream, cries a plenty
Taken away and put in the tank

Two days past, five are dead
Sitting all hazed from all of the pain

Created a disaster, messed up lives
Hit the bottle. Why did I drive?

The car
The bar
The music
The laughter
The bottle
The gladness
The bottles
The glasses
The sadness
The reluctance of a listener
The anger
The fight
The door
The sudden thud outside
The gettin' up
The staggerin'
The poor judgment
The rain
The car
The short-long drive too far
The slippery and hazy highway
The swervin' from side to side
The oncomin' other
The collision
The crash
The smash
The mangled torso
The last gasp
THE END

They sit in their
Wide neon cocoons,
Cozy and warm
With hot air
Dribbling out of vents
And swirling around their bodies.

A thin sheet of metal protects them from
Nine degree weather
And bone-freezing winds
And sheets of shivering ice.

And yet,
Every day at
Exactly
Six twenty-four in the morning
They come around
Like wide neon caterpillers
And slink toward where I stand,
Legs frozen to concrete.

Doors open,
Burning cold air rushes in
And rubs against them,
But they wait and smile
As I climb three tall stairs
And greet them,
Welcoming the nice hug of
Warmth
And
Coziness
And
Comfort
And love.

They love me,
A stranger.
They love me enough to
Rescue me from
Becoming an ice sculpture.

So I fumble with
The Thank You in my pocket
And ****** it toward them
In my haste.

It is enough for them.