poem of the day 08.24.16

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.