Containers full of pain and sorrow
And laughter and joy.
Tiny universes held together with skin,
Sitting in a bus station at 3am.

Drooping faces weary with travel.
These are my people,
Though they don't know me.
My family,
Though they don't see me.
I sit alone in the corner and watch them watch their T.V.s
I watch them wait.

I watch the woman across from me.
The picture of middle-aged addiction.
Clinging to her garbage bag belongings
Like a scared child clings to its mothers breast.
As I memorize every line on her face,
Broken teeth and searching eyes,
I realize that she is beauty defined.

Has anyone ever told her?

In that room,
unperceived,
The ineffable resides.
Hidden in the suitcases of crack fiends
And vagabonds.

3am Escanaba to Milwaukee

That's my cue to leave,
I raise my hands to the ceiling and I shout
"Goodbye, you're all beautiful!"
They look at me like I'm crazy.
I don't care.
I am madly in love with their humanity.

I never want to know sanity.