I’m on the midnight bus
To Los Angeles,
I wrote a bad check
For my ticket, but what the heck?
Could a fellow tell you more?
I’ll be there soon,
Riding near a full moon,
Knowing that I can’t stay,
Seeing you just one whole day.
I could land in jail!
A bandit needs the anonymity
Of living in the city.
The sky is clay, the street is grey
Outside the bus station at the start of day.
Watching all the selves unfold,
Hearing the woman, who spat,
“Fuck you. I speak Spanish.
Watch your language!”, and like that.
To the astonished couple in blue
Who hold between themselves a suitcase or two.
She’s crazy say their eyes,
Rising above their dirty shirts
And the young man kneeling with his guitar
And the Navy nurses running for the buses
View original post 188 more words