near the busy intersection of Chapman and State College,
waiting for the bus.
I try to count the cars as they pass,
but there are too many, hundreds,
and they move too fast.
wait with me are minorities.
and write.
a brown haze of sky.
and it is packed,
standing room only,
with minorities,
men and women and children.
as in Jesse La Tour,
the guy putting pen to paper.
I feel the need to interject here,
for a moment,
some of my anxieties
as a writer.
think this is a "liberal" poem
because it deals with
pollution and minorities.
Fear not, I have no political intentions.
actually waiting for
a real bus, near
a real busy intersection, with
real cars emitting
real carbon monoxide which I was
really breathing into
my real lungs and the sky was
really brown in the distance and the bus was
really filled with
real minorities.
write down that real experience I had today
in Fullerton, California
on April 26th, 2013
between approximately
2:23 and 2:54pm
at the bus stop
near the corner of Chapman and State College.
the experience does
raise two or three questions like:
2.) What does that brown haze mean?
3.) Why is the bus packed with minorities?
If this poem makes you think
about politics, well,
that's your deal.
I got this photo from google images, so it could be fake.
But the poem is real, and the experience.