Bus Stop Wait

Watch the street’s gutter for
movement, look at the reflection
against its water, it reacts
with concentric circles

find low points on telephone lines
see if they drip, see the telephone birds
not fly away, the larger ones
can take it for a while

find a moving car turn its wipers on, find
a car wash, see if it starts to empty, listen
to your hearing improve as vision gets worse
listen–there are more sounds

take your shades off then put them
back on, the glare is still there
stronger now, bouncing off new surfaces
put your hand out, your palm down, feel it

watch the others look up, take cover
running under roofs, but the wind is blowing
sideways, it doesn’t matter, they get wet
they don’t see it but they get wet

they look up but there’s nothing to see
not like down here, where everything happens
it’s on everyone’s clothes, everyone’s faces
it’s the movement in the gutter.

 

About this poem

Sometimes I think that I’m a better writer now than years ago, then I run into an old poem like this. Probably written during college, 1986-1988. More fragmented and abstract than how I write now. Don’t remember if I had wanted it to be allegorical, but now, in the year 2005, with what’s going on in the world, in America, the poem has a new meaning, especially the last two stanzas.