little monster
the little monster
on the evening bus keeps screaming
the other tired bastards
keep moving away from him
up toward the front
making the bus top heavy
i sit there thinking that it might tip over
but the little monster
keeps screaming
his teen mother keeping saying “hush”
only she’s laughing
with her teen mother friends
provoking the little monster
i watch this pint-sized abomination as he screams
howling until his face turns red
as he stops, smiles, and looks around for encouragement
as more people flee the back of the bus
i think of taking him gently by the shoulder
telling the little fucker
all about the horrors of the work week
and what i’ll do to him
if he keeps up this screaming shit
only i don’t think it’ll go over too well
with his teenaged mother
her teen mom friends
or their assortment of tattooed boyfriends
drinking cans of beer out of paper bags
i don’t have the strength to take them all on tonight
so like everyone else
i move toward the crowded front of the bus
i put on mozart’s piano sonata number twelve
but i can still hear the little monster
as he screams and screams and screams
as his proud parents laugh and laugh and laugh
and another dreadful evening
gets recorded into the books.
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