I sit all day at the bus stop. Buses go past; one with Juliet, one with my good brothers, another with my ambitions. No one waits here; they get on around the corner, I imagine….
Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
I sit all day at the bus stop. Buses go past; one with Juliet, one with my good brothers, another with my ambitions. No one waits here; they get on around the corner, I imagine….