The Volcanic Activity of Buses

I have a book with scribbles in it

the air is a clock

the temperature is time

the alarm is people dying from the weather

snow falls on Seattle

the man and the woman sit side-by-side on the bus

their faces are slices of the Cascades

strained with hidden volcanic activity

his fingers are ingrained in her throat

like the purple veins on the exposed rock of a river bed

I ask them if the bus is going downtown

I ask them where is the driver

the woman looks at me as if the earth is rising up and the #10 bus is about to be pushed down the street and into the sound with garbage containers and trees and shoppers from Macy’s and young pan handlers and Native American alcoholics whittling in doorways

why did she choose him I think

the man can hear me and says shut up

I get off the bus just as cops from the transit authority arrive

the snow is coming down hard

a big guy passes me and says domestic dispute

I can see the eruption from within and then the bus is lifted by lava and floats away, heading toward the sound, twisting sideways with everyone still on board

Advertisements

One thought on “The Volcanic Activity of Buses

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s