BUS-STOP PHANTOM ERRANT
It's a charming bus-stop you're
keeping from me, as I sit here
in handcuffs, blinking to see. I
have not a care in the world -
which is when, they usually
say, Death gets you. Unbecoming,
like a master sergeant, I wear a
suit to suit myself. I am filled
with Being, not hate, and that's
what won't let me on.
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