deepundergroundpoetry.com

Midnight Run On A Black Line

...The taller the mountain
the higher the smoke climbs...

A light flickers
from a bus station bar,
drunks pace
from one corner to the other-
curse the bus-Delayed.

Cheap smiles, early morning smokes
tired men and young girls stuff tapas
down their throats
                  Kings and Queens
of a forgotten lot. Anxious
for the signal
to release the hatch
to take them to their
end destinations.

Near Oviedo
a bus is burning

soon enough it will
turn to placid ash
without much of a reaction
.
mbass33
Written by mbass33 (matthew bass)
Published
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