BUS STOP BLUES

Sometimes
waiting for a bus
is enough
to send one
over the edge.
The sun hot
enough to fry
ovaries & gonads,
sweat pouring
into your underwear
as you watch
wheelchairs run over
walkers that topple
over legs splayed
over curbs holding
up the infirm the demented
the luckless, the loveless,
the broke dreamers,
the damned who only know
others just as damned.
And now
you know it,
too.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015