BEATNIK: A Poetry Collection

utter transportation

public buses

are a

waiting room.

a polished collection

of dirty travels,

too scared to

exchange glances

and to busy to

give anyone

the time.

unlike how it is on

the outside,

they don't sit

in clusters.

they're mixed,

frazzled,

bent by

the journey.

lost in a haze

if asked to rely on

the person

next to them.

I feel like that

most days.