stands alone
at the 42 metrobus stop
just north of dupont circle last thursday,
as icy weather snarls the traffic
and makes the roads
a nightmare to drive.
with his smartrip card in hand –
the dc metro’s rechargeable fare pass,
he looks a little lost
it’s almost like the guy
on the first day of work
who looks at his green pass,
and wonders:
at the 42 metrobus stop
just north of dupont circle last thursday,
as icy weather snarls the traffic
and makes the roads
a nightmare to drive.
with his smartrip card in hand –
the dc metro’s rechargeable fare pass,
he looks a little lost
it’s almost like the guy
on the first day of work
who looks at his green pass,
and wonders:
‘how on earth does this work?’
he can tell with precision
how smart bombs work;
simulate to the detail
the path to war, victory, and peace:
how to cleanse the sands
of the tigris,
of nuke heads
before crusaders morph
the republic into salt ruins.
the refurbished contraption
finally breezes in;
it’s too packed full
to take in any more.
his eyes follow it
as it rounds the corner, picks up speed
and is out of sight.
whether the driver and the faces
sitting or standing,
notice his sleek gray suit
or his singular presence,
that’s immaterial.
he begins to walk away
down the hill with a mutter,
perhaps a little curse,
like i’ve done a zillion times before
in the twilight zone.
he makes it down the hill just fine.
he doesn’t fall or anything.
Achirri, Ann Arbor
(Acknowledgement: Roll Call, Feb 2, 2009)
Pretty damn good. so much imagery and feeling. That is like Europeans, when I am not judging them.
Posted by: Ma Mary | Wednesday, 17 March 2010 at 06:40 PM