The 168,
Departed late,
A character trait,
Of public transit,
So here I sit,
On this black bench,
In the hot hot sun,
The bus threw a wrench,
Into my fun,
The longer I wait,
The more I think,
The bus won’t come,
Within the next blink,
This is my life,
Without a car,
Without a wife,
I’m going far,
With my girlfriend,
After I mend,
Our broken understandings,
And premarital demandings,
Now the bus is here,
And I bust a rhyme,
And I bus around,
From time to time,
I have to go,
But I’ll be back,
Don’t do drugs kids,
Stay away from crack.

Contemporary madness -
Craving more - with no subtraction
    "In game?" - involve
    Participation - of the thought  
    Most mimic those who disconnected
    Most play as virgins - unaware
    Not daring to examine bearings
        Of social roles and biological demandings
        Of what is "Me" - not a direction - *****
        It teaches taking human role
        Humane is engineers laughter
        "It's sickening to see you choose an owe
        When you repeat same neural patterns"
        You peak plateau - a weary and indifferent
            Flaw - begs you to quit the brawl
            Unless you choose as part of the absurd
            A conscious action of self-talk
            With none of "I" from egoistic brothel
                At last to see the stupid joke
                With it they made a 'wear'
                Augustly awful is its fate
                So desperate to be the wearer