He talked like a ******.
Walked like one.
Loudly assisting tourists in the
Line outside the bus.
My luck seated him in
Front of me. I answered
Evasively. Mentally begging
Shut up. Shut up.
I was tired.
I was hungry.
"Would you like a piece of pizza?"
He handed me a sealed
Bag. This close
His eyes contradicted his person.
Sober. Friendly. He smelled
Of aftershave and
Society.
"I shouldn't eat this, I'm working
With a Yoga project
To help addicts recover
Through meditation.
Should stay healthy. Been clean
For three years, though I
Know it doesn't seem like it.
I just love to talk to people."
I ate his pizza. We spoke.
Squinted in laughter.
He cried like a girl when
He saw Avatar, he confessed.
"My sons still take the p...
Outta me for that.
I'm so glad they'll never
Have to go through
What I did. I'll
Make sure of
That for
Sure, for
Sure."
I usually write poetry
On the bus.
This Friday afternoon
I lived it.