have I been... away?

`

what time is your bus?
do u know the cement crumbling from this curb
does not flow into a sewer grate?
charity is a whiff of diesel-blend grass,
the sloped sides of a forgettable road.
the cold arctic airmass above us
is like a pasture accepting its long wait.

what time will u leave your office?
do u believe in the shadow of the hubcap?
i am in the beginning phases.
i am a shallow area of low pressure -- light blue
on the radar screen. the lines you see are formed
and faced by miserable glances...

commuting is an inglorious waste of one's
death.