The London Hours, 2012

Standard

*
the bus coming forward
carrying large cumulus
completely white
.
in the front windshield
what was on my back
i would have not seen
.
restlessness won’t leave
never taking a trip far
since he’s gone
.
the brightness pierces
i cannot stand waste
days thrown void
.
driving down the circle
we’ll get around somehow
at a time that may not be mine
.
i fear you fear and such
is at the wheel i guess
having taken us so far
.
down this road
is the ticket office

.

.

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