SUBURBAN BUS LINES
Don't think of me when you think
of nice things' keep me with the bad,
it's better than way and that way I
can say what I may. The fetters
of the caps and gowns which just
limit the scope keep me uneasy.
Here's what I mean: Listen to the
central bells by Palmer Square.
Some known Nassau pretension
keeps them there, while toiled
minions purchase their gums and
butter. And then, right across
from where the New York bus
arrives, three rushing men attempt
their line of language as they hit
upon the boarding-minute they're
allotted. Parsi? Or is that Hindi?
As they board the bus and
are driven away.
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