Clouddead This About The City
On our perpetual bus ride home, slowly
We were all muzzle moutheded and
Rushing ice cream to the fridge at the crib
It's the same old new moon
Gagging on the ABCs so on
That our colons have for us
Now back to the bus
Enter three blacks. a couple plus another;
His half finished hair:
White yarn extensions of herself
His face painted rainbow
And bags on his hands
Turned inside outside inside out
The couple, in the bus belly air of punched out time
Squirm with a static-starting laugh
They laugh (ha ha ha ha ha)
Standing for some nose-bitten high school status
Sandblasted heterosexual samples on a slide of glass
Don't they know you can't make somebody
On the verge of such self discovery
Feel uncomfortable?
This whole busload of hydrogen, carbon, and secrets
Umbilical doorbell to a-frame attachment, property
Rights, poker face of the globe maker's daughter
The whole empty zipped whore house secrets
All coming out of its face
Full-faced mask with
I-don't-want-to-say-soul
Bottomed eyeholes
Step out of your face
And back onto the carbon
Based bus you're on
We got off the bus
At 29th and broadway
Same place we got on
It kept going
Nothing happened
We wrote it down
To give you eye holes
f..ck the blindfold
How much can a bus cost?
Open your mouth or get off the bus
We got off to save our groceries
Feeling like we should have stayed
For three more stops
A man was died
A baby born
And heard a plane
Flew over Broadway
