Years ago on a bus ride

From no place to nowhere,

The air thick with cigarette

Smoke, stale garlic breath,

Dead beer farts, and sweat,

Perhaps you’ve been there.

A hippy couple moaning

Under a thin convulsing

Cover, a fat man sleeping,

Snoring, drunk, drooling.

A lady sick with diarrhea

Coming and going to the

Bathroom in the back,

Smelling riper each trip,

Trailing toilet tissue stuck

To the heel of her shoe.

Wedged on the long bench

Seat beneath the rear window,

Bouncing high with three

Strangers on each bump in

The road, an intelligent

Sounding man passing his

Mickey of whiskey back

And forth to the rest of us,

Straining each swig through

Our teeth in an attempt to miss

The floaters, I asked him

What universities he had

Attended, where he had studied.

He replied through the end of

A cold cigar that he had simply

Bummed around and studied the

Backs of Eddy match boxes.

© Stephen Nesbitt