Route 66

My life has turned into a wait and wonder, and worry, ‘why’.
A do nothing bus ride full of screaming people
piled on thick as meringue
unable to fight their way out.
A wheel-chaired Korean Veteran
puffing himself up against the world
fighting with some woman
three rows back.
A shit-filled diaper
help-less to be changed,
no matter how loud the cries.
More and more they come.
The feet.
The hands.
The eyes.
The mouths.
All cussing the same driver.
And still, I haven’t arrived.
I watch the street signs.
The lip-stained billboards.
The high-heeled leopard strutting her way
across Michigan Avenue.
The bagged and bag less.
The hungry and well fed.
All begging to get off
the damn bus.