Monday, July 29, 2019

Bus Ride To Nowhere

Images go past
And words- both written and sounds
I travel through them
Through both time and space
Insulated by the steel walls and padded seat
My forehead pressed against the coolness
Of the quarter-cracked pane

Speed shifts from minute details that stretch like a Kansas plain
To shutter-speed flashes of half-formed impressions
Painstaking fastness
Or breakneck slow?

The scenery changes- but it's still the same.
Just as the music on the radio with its same 5 chord progressions 
It occurs to me- remakes
Songs and scenes and roads
Time and trips and memories 
They fall in a jolting, yet familiar pattern 

I take a break and stretch 
Regarding the other passengers 
Some stare at their phones
Heads down, focused 
Fingers gliding and lightly tapping over the screen's surface
Others, earbuds in, stare blankly ahead, lost in the sounds of their own world
Some snuggle next to a child, spouse, lover
Others crook their necks, lean back and close their eyes 
Trying to let the monotony lull them to sleep 

I peer out again 
Has the scenery changed?
Yes and no
I feel cramped
My stomach lurches from inaneness
The familiar question coming to mind 
Are we there yet?
Yet that doesn't quite capture it 
The destination no longer seems to matter 
The question is: when can I get off?



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