On the Bridge, a Carnage

On the bridge, a carnage, Turmoil in a flipped white bus Unified gasp like collective hiccups. Head stuck in glowing screen — For fear, nah — for horror.   You cannot stay bowed forever  Death holds an irresistible allure. The bloodied head, the resolved chin The displaced leg, the lifeless  Body on the route to …

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Mid-July Deluge

I worry about the man who walks home at dawn, jacket in hand, his singlet brown and stiff from dirt while I rush in ankara paired with jeans skipping muddy puddles to save what is left of my shoes. Conductor who chooses fight over paying the hound-like money collectors who clutch at his shirt that …