I heard the bus brakes cough like a sneeze,
as they farted out hot air
against the backs of my legs.
My skirt caught in the wind
like I was Alice from Wonderland,
and I was a falling cupcake. Only,
I stood on the corner of Clifton and MLK,
wondering when the next stop was
or when I would hear
a sneeze again.

Catcher the screamer yelled.
He said.
I said.
Well, I won’t tell what he said.
But, he said,
“Take it off.”
And I said,
“What?”
Then he grabbed hold of me and
speared me with his javelin to the bed.
Now I’m getting gassed.

Only, instead of coming face-to-face with the bus,
I found myself back-to-back with it.
So then I started praying,
“Lord Jesus,” I said.
And then I stopped
when my thoughts were interrupted
by a moving billboard,
advertizing God-knows-what
with some grandma-looking chick,
unblinkingly staring at me
like some punk kid
I felt like punching.

My stomach kind of threw up in itself
when Catcher the screamer yelled.
So I went for a walk down Clifton Ave.,
and I stopped at a bus stop.

-Chels

*written as part of a short story… the text is meant to be sporadic, but the format will not let me post it in such a way*