Bus Ride

Was spouting Jesus shit - save the World cleanse
your sins. All that. Face squished up against the window watching
leaves hit the pane chewing at her own fingernails like a fat
man devours a kebab after his twelth pint down
the boozer. Made half an effort, she did - she did - Blazer,
tee, but it all ended in Lacoste at the legs tucked into uggs, naturally,
her hair half brushed unwashed but static still at peace
with grease the hair at least
aint goin nowhere but her eyes her lips her quivering lips her split
focus her dripped spit every atom popped gone bang! bang! psssshhhhtt.
Nothing.
Bang! Bang! psssssshhhhhttt.
Nothing.
Knotless balloon.
The husband? The lover? The children? The God? The plan? Dreamy-dreamy-doe-eyed-existance. Naaaaaaaah-ive. Naive.
All of it extinguished and gone like the dinosaurs (sssssshhh don't bring that up).

The rest of the bus stands up to leave Jesus
is coming she says Jesus is coming Don't worry
everyone Jesus is coming

On the 86
route? Really?

She eyeballs me - can smell the sex the sin the opinion of evolutions the blasphemes the bad things I am one I am one

Jesus is coming, she nods (oh for the love of fuck don't let her sit by me) She gets back to her nails gnaws one down to a fleshy stump a dead tree. There's blood.

I ring the button.
And dive off.

Jesus is headin to one shit-scene.