Image by SoulRider.222 via Flickr
Buses… buses… buses… what in the world is their special purpose!?
Overly obese people with their tummies uncovered by tight, stained shirts
Senior citizens treated with special care by the bus driver because they’re
“fragile”
Youngsters chat with eachother, tolerating a generation from an era of milkshake dates and obsessing over Elvis Presley’s image
Coffee is forbidden unless there’s a lid
The driver has no patience for animals not in cages…
Cars crash and people scream with veins bursting like grapes
The view of a vibrant city disappears after five minutes to my
disappointment
I can take a picture of this bizarre life Portlanders call “normal”
You might push it away since a child is being hit by his parent in the
trash-littered alley
I can’t tell what goes on in everyone’s car but it must be somewhat pleasant
Buses constantly make the annoying sound of change falling down pipes
Pedestrians walk in front of unrestrained cars
The tall, black-robed skeleton follows everyone of them in my
preoccupied city
Cars become tiny bugs in their eyes as they smoke, smoke, smoke till
the hair smells worse than grandmother’s breath
Surprisingly, no one slammed against the pole out of frustration
I wonder why I have to be careful yet everyone else is carefree
No one harms them, no one seems to complain about mistakes made
So, I laugh with sarcasm till the birds drop their worm-digested feces
on my fresh copy of the Vanguard
Now, I have to try to avoid the city’s trash-scented vermin too!?
