miguel
on the bus i listen to mellencamp
but mellencamp does nothing for me
he makes me feel old
besides i can’t hear him over miguel’s wailing
i’m tired
i’m beat from five nights
without any real sleep
and a job that just won’t quit
as miguel slams his fists on the seat next to me
i’m probably getting laid off
i’ll probably be on food stamps by this time next month
while miguel slaps his thighs
and screams so loud the goddamned bus driver
swerves and almost kills us all
i have sore legs
sore knees
my hair is getting gray all over
and in mirrors it looks as though i’ve gotten fatter
still miguel pounds on the window
and continues crying with reckless abandon
i probably won’t see fifty
the way i eat and drink
i have insomnia on my best nights
and having a pet does not calm me
but miguel gets up and starts running around the bus
putting his snot on everything
this world is going to hell
it’s either one-hundred degrees
or the flood waters rage
as i sit there watching miguel’s mother
chase him around the bus
trying to buy the kid off with boxed fruit drinks and toys
yeah, a lot of shit is bad
we’re all one mass suicide
only we don’t know it
but at least none of us are miguel’s mother today
cooing sweet words into that huffing beast’s ear
while apologizing to a row of strangers for his antics
begging him not to throw another tantrum
because being that bitch
trumps all the other misery right now.
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