Distorted Perfections In The Bus Station

Distorted Perfections In The Bus Station

A Poem by Matthew Bass

Cañas keep me awake 
while my woman is 
passed out on my shoulder 
inside a bar with 
puke-aqua colored walls. 
  
The drunk man walks back and forth 
pacing and cursing at the bus. 
He smokes cigarettes and hits on the girl 
stuffing tapas down her throat. 
  
The old gentleman gives me dirty looks, 
then cleans every knife 
the barman gives him. 
He secretly hides the crumbs 
falling from his chin 
everytime he takes a bite 
of his croissant. 
  
Two Spanish girls order food 
and laugh about stupid things. 
They pretend they are above us 
but their belly fat rolls over 
their droopy adolescent waists. 
  
The barman has a nervous twitch 
and looks below all of us. 
  
I sit     I sit 
     I wait 
half dead from no sleep 
and twist my fingers through 
her beautiful Indian fingers 
and sit here akwardly still 
because she is sound asleep 
and her body is warm under my hoodie. 
  
I wait for the bus. 
To hope it never comes.

© 2011 Matthew Bass


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Love the ending lines. I do enjoy poems about these simple moments that create such an impact on us. It truly is the simple things is like that define us. Lovely!

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on November 1, 2011
Last Updated on November 1, 2011

Author

Matthew Bass
Matthew Bass

St. Louis, MO



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It´s funny how we think we are all on the cusp of something, and just have not been recognized yet. I am no different. I don´t really care all that much, but at the same time I do care. .. more..

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