ode to the loud guy
on the B4 bus
eighteen months
i haven’t had to take this bus home
now, i don’t want to suggest
that things should get better over time
life is cyclical
some mornings i get the feeling
that we’re slipping slowly back
into some new kind of dark age
but do you really have to shout to your friend
about going to dinner at buffalo wild wings?
i don’t want to get into your cuisine choices
but the man is sitting right next to you
at best you need only talk above a whisper
why do we all have to know how much you enjoyed
your screamin’ nacho burger and buffalo chips?
i’m not trying to suggest
that what i’m doing on here is better
than what you are trying to do
though i am reading chuck kinder
poems about richard brautigan
by the looks of us we’re both trying to go home
from our fucking jobs
i just don’t care that target has all their star wars shit
on sale
and how cheap the batman/superman blu-ray combo is
even if i did like the film
or that the target is right next door to buffalo wild wings
which was good because you really
needed the bathroom after that meal
i’m sure the other two dozen people on the B4 bus
don’t give a shit either
but it doesn’t matter to you, does it?
doesn’t matter that the bus driver had
to make an announcement telling you to shut the hell up
you didn’t even hear him
just went right on babbling about bowel movements
and stars wars and batman and target
and screamin’ nacho burgers and buffalo chips
i don’t want to say that there was a genuine sigh of relief
when you got off at thirteenth avenue
i’ll just say the bus got a ton quieter
and the driver no longer looked like
he wanted to careen the bus into a wall
that is, at least until sixth avenue
when some asshole teenage girl got on the bus
blasting taylor swift songs from her smartphone
singing off-key for everyone
like she thought she was
going to be america’s next big shit.
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