Image borrowed from Bing
Yellow Bus
Memory stains the brain like blood on cloth. The breath
reeks of loss. Listen to yourself clomp from bed
to sullen desk thinking: you can never go home
again and smile. Oh Delilah, I miss the glint of sun
on your wire frames in the back of the bus. Demons
in designer shirts all tans and teeth pushing you
and your gimpy leg down the steps, fists
in the hallway. Sweat and urine in the breeze.
Delilah, you told me the sadists wouldn’t win,
but there’s one holding my house note. I don’t remember
their names so how will I know who to vote for?
I walked home to keep from smelling their shit-eating
smiles. You let them ride with you, in the yellow bus
of your heart, all through high school. They elbowed
their way to the back seat where no one could see,
and you smiled your crooked smile and stared ahead.
Cortney Bledsoe
Posted over on Press board Press
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