Bus Ride

May 23, 2014 at 7:54 pm (Dani Clark, Poetry)

Who are these people on this bus now anyway?

This mother gesturing and speaking Portuguese
across the aisle to her calm-faced daughter

The African whose head bobs, hits the window
with the exhaustion of nighttime dishwashing

The blonde with the unnaturally straight hair
blabbing with affectation about her internship

And so quiet in form: the bearded, slender young man
reading Rousseau, carrying nothing but that book

And who am I? The one in ear phones imagining
the gum-smacking lady driver suddenly veering us

from this jammed street across a magic bridge
onto an island, yes that’s it, where we must learn

to survive with what’s in our bags right now
pick fruit from trees, build fires to cook and

pass the time telling the stories of our lives
what really counts, some of us making wild sweet love.

– Dani Clark

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