Wednesday, March 3, 2010

hw assignments to face humanity


















Da Numbah One

Some sit, Some stand while waiting for the #1
Across Kahala Mall,
two boys make a mad run for it, weaving in and
out of traffic. i learned long time ago
never run for it, it's not worth it. Monster Beats
on my headset blaring, Geto Boys, "Damn it Feels to be a Gangsta"
i see Fasi's Limo, but i don't run, "Cuz real gangsta ass niggaz don't run for shit,
Cuz real gangsta ass niggaz can't run fast."

TheBus pulls up and picks us up.
TheBus is half full not half empty (Not for Long).
We sit, Some chat, some contemplate, i reflect,
loose my space. My eyes wander to ads spotty,
City Bus placards MIA (i remember stealing in my youth)

THIS IS A PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: THIS AD WILL NOT STOP CRACK USE,
WIFE ABUSE, ABORTION OR SMOKING--
THAT IS ALL, RETURN TO YOUR PATHETIC LIVES PEONS.

My eyes move down to scarred windows,
Large and Rustycrusty Roaches, crawl, critter.
Mucus, Food, Gum Wrapper, Gum, litter, in this vehicle we are
all headed in the same general direction.

i see mouths move but can't hear a sound.

Thank You, Noise Cancellation Headphones.
i choose the music and pollution, the soundtrack to this scene.
Besides, strangers are best seen and not heard, especially adults,
interrupting my desire to be alone.
Long is Waialae. TheBus is full by Tamura's and the bodies hum.
Chitchat cell phones texting Clockstars and College kids in repose,
We're resting against plastic,
scarred windows, Sacred Hearts McDonald's and St. Louis Cigarettes
Litter the street. Two Public Storage Wastelands,
Welcome to Your Future Home, on top of King,
a Humane Society,

theBus in decline, hug the curve of him--
Get off on King and University. Walk up to Glazers.

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