Somewhere they call this Monday
but I don't have the heart to care
Now, for me, there is only recognize and respond
there is only the gentle hand
of this graceful autopilot
pushing me from behind.
It is enough to get me home
to get me undressed
to get me in bed
and forget this bad dream morning.

It was a two song bus ride
and one more to walk me to my door.
Things
people cars buildings smoke
merely are.
They have been stripped of any meaning beyond color and shape
or sinew and bone
there is no beauty
nothing is ugly
it all merely exists

but this is only for me

out there, past my eyes
in the street where I see skeletons go by
it is alive
with all the human colors
envy hurry hate and love
I watch a woman watch a girl
her eyes heavy jealous and tired
-I have been there-
she thought
-and it was good-
but she, the woman
had already thrown herself away
a styrofoam soul
and until the greenlight-go lurch of the bus
I was sad for her.

AcB 01.15.01