The Bus Trip

What is this new route?
Rivulets and amulets of public transport,
condition wrinkled rouges and rouses.
A sky broken by clouds,
a water wheel broken by time,
a spirit broken by complex reflection,
and existence broken by a heaved breath
contain self-sightings of impressions and reflections
unattended by traditionally bookish qualities of
separability. Morose cognitions travel quickly toward a
smoothness that ought not be.

Enflamed.
Be enflamed.
Fire can create and destroy.
Fire under control is a weapon unlike any other.
Contiguity, similarity, a cause and effect—
Combined with experience—is this all existence is?

Play a game of questions and you’ll soon find no answers
to anything. Play a game of experience and you’ll soon find pleasure.
Coagulated verdancy of expectation, doled out in inconvenient dosages,
your yellow-synonym of platitudes suffers from meaningful meaninglessness.

Maybe A Song:

What do you do when words fail you?
What do you do when you’re falling in love?
What do you do when every day
what you want is miles away?

You hang on tight,
You have a little faith
You start each day with a prayer.
Learn about courage.
Learn about soul.
Ball your fist at the air.
Finally, you take every minute to care.

The other day I met a friend
who lived with tears without end.
The other day that same friend
said, “Tears of joy are just different.”

I hang on tight,
I have a little faith
I start each day with a prayer.
I learn about courage,
learn about soul.
I Ball my fist at the air.
Finally, I take every minute to care.

The people who make kindness
are the people that rule the world.
The people that make love
are the people holding the power.
The peaceful people being good to others,
are those who’ll inherit the earth.
The people living for others, another
Are the ones out defining worth.

They hang on tight,
They have a little faith
They start each day with a prayer.
They learn about courage,
learn about soul.
They ball their fist at the air.
Finally, they take every minute to care.