THE WOODWARD BUS POEM
The bus downtown is wild sometimes.
There was almost a fist fight Saturday night.
Of course Saturday night.
One morning someone refused to wear their mask,
So the bus driver pulled over &
Yelled at us…
Detroit rides their buses.
Cheaper than buying & maintenance & Michigan auto insurance…
With coffee breath behind our masked sleepiness,
Detroit Bold – Woodward blend,
Going to work,
Watching out for our stops,
& the graffiti colored bricks (“Where’s the money?”)
Which blurs the cityscape before us,
The bus was standing room only tonight,
Wild to find oneself swinging from a bar,
While careening down
W. G R A N D B L V D.
This morning Grandma reads the news,
From her phone aloud to us,
“It’s Obama’s birthday today!”
Several passengers hum in acknowledgment,
“You think he’s smoking a cigarette?”
The bus cackles.
“When he was elected President,
His hair was black, when he left,
It looked like he worked at Chrysler-Ford!”
The bus roars with laughter.
“I wouldn’t want any job like that!”
James Schwartz is a poet, writer, slam performer and author of 5 poetry collections including The Literary Party: Growing Up Gay and Amish in America. He resides in Detroit. Twitter: @queeraspoetry. Website: Literaryparty.blogspot.com
Banner Image: (c) James Schwartz, (2022).