wednesday morning,
i wait for the city bus
with the recycling bin
full of beer bottles
and empty pop cans,
looking like something
put out with the trash
freshly-cut hair
plasticine smile
eggshell cheeks
and a mood like sour milk
a punk fresh out
of the gutter
with nothing
to lose
and nothing
to prove
pen in hand,
ready to document
injustice
and all i keep finding
is my own anger
–
written w13jul2011.
–
idiography 