Friday, November 15, 2013

Two Riders on the Last Bus of the Night



The creep in the eye patch
resting on his cane
stares mono visioned
through the window
Passing the inane dread of
city light coronas
liquor tore signs
and hitch hikers after dark
While his welt-eyed beauty
rests her smeared tiara
and bandaged wrists against
the rattling window,
fingering the wrinkles
of the scarf he used
to wipe the stains from his seat ,

Returning from where eve
they were coming from
to whatever waited for them
after he pulled the cord
and stepped into
the unbreathing wrap of the night.