"Tucson city transit," I said with some delight,
and crawled into the bus as it
whisked out in the night.
The hunchback gnomish driver
nods gruffly as I pass,
the bus lets out a rumble
as he steps upon the gas.
Hitching up her stockings,
"sputter, hack, hack, cough
"Excuse me," with trepidation,
"but aren't you getting off?"
I slide on a cool, worn plastic,
a newspaper at my feet,
it's grabbed by dirt-black fingers,
"Under that I sleep!"
Sashaying down the sidewalk
and grinding to a halt,
lurching past the bus and trying not to fall.
Red-rimmed eyes behind me,
they look but cannot see,
and suddenly I whisper,
"That once happened to me."
A near silent exclamation
hardly stirs the air,
and yet some silent recognition
from someone who is there.
The window has turned to silence,
and suddenly it's gone.
Descending down the stairwell
I've returned from whence I've come.
---
Lyrics submitted by Michael.