Geek on the Bus

Purple colared shirt
Freshly Ironed Pants
Big bright smile with dimples etched into his cheeks
His eyes were catching a gleam off of the sun
He was sitting on a bench, reading a newspaper,
and waiting to catch the bus.
He was no older then 19
and looked as if his mother had dressed him every morning,
packed his lunch and kissed him on the forehead on his way out.
(Which I am sure she did)
When we got onto the bus the scene was dire
It was early
Tired eyes, heads down, caffiene in hands
He stepped onto the bus before me.
The scene did not effect him
He saw nothing unnatural or strange

Immediatley he chose out of the crowd a fellow aquintance
She was young
No older than 19
Thick framed black glasses
Long silky black hair
White colared shirt
She was matching
She smiled big and white
A smile that must have made her mother proud.
It made me a little bit sick
Watching these two
But I could not look away or avoid listening in on
the awkward issues they cared about discussing
They spoke of schools
Colleges/Universities in other cities
The loans they would be taking out
The money they would be spending
What they would be learning
They were not concerened about where the money would come from by any means
(Most certainley from thier parents)
but they were concerned about what they should take
in the semesters and seasons ahead
Business Class
Economics
Management courses
What thier futures would entail by doing so

In between giggles and polite exchange
He would look out the window with pure anticipation
Excitement
Joy
Oppurtunity
She looked down at her text books
Blushing
Not because she loved this boy
because she felt like she was going to become something
Not at that particular moment of course
but sometime this century
He had never fucked her
Neither of them had ever fucked at all
and you could see
(If you really tried)
this jittery fuck tension shaking in thier bones
He just hid it very well under his skin
and besides,
He had his entire life to think about

Enjoy the inexperience now you little geek on the bus
They ll get to even you soon enough
One day you will be looked down upon with pity
and when you stare out of the bus window at the sun
You will feel it burn
You will feel the pain of every living creature around you
because then you will understand
Finally
What the world has become
Not a launch pad of oppurtunity
but a bowel of fear
Ill see you at the end of the bar
in 5 years
Wearing your smile

Graveyard Shifts

6:30 a.m
Must pry eyes open
Must forget the world of dreams
To carry on with the day

Brain now screams for another vessel
Arms and legs still sleep away
I am here in body but not in spirit
To work alone
The graveyard shifts

11:30 a.m
Clumsy now
Fast retreat
Burn my eyes
The cigarettes weep
1st break at work
1st sign of peace
Saturate the temple
In tears of heat
Flooding down into the streets
Where my heart would be
If it hadnt rotted green
Where I could have been serene with women, booze and freedom

2:00 p.m
Lunch has come to an end
Much like the pleasure of being full bellied
Satisfied and Sociable
I have become rarely sociable
Buried in words
Most of which are not good to speak
Usually are not very coture to hear
They taint my tongue
Stain my mouth
and coat my teeth
In bacteria.

"Rebecca Dickens you are a cocksucker
An immaculate consumer whore
You ruin my world you maggot worm
Stop digging tunnels in my cheeks."

3:33 p.m
Get me out of this hell!
My shoes are wet and my throat is numb
Repitition has
Fucked the world dead and dry
I can only hold such a fake facade for so long
I do not want to be nice to you
Or help you in anyway
Or thank you for your time
Your business
Or your slave money
My dick will never stand up again
and it laughs at me for doing this to myself
While I fuck the world dead and dry

5:30 p.m
Is there really anything left to say about
5:30 p.m?
Labotomized
Almost there
Ass end up, Waving high in the air
If I could only take this down
Without coughing myself stupid
Tearing my inards up for blood
Something human
and crimson
Beautiful colour to see at 5:30 p.m
especially when it's spewed on the screen
It makes me smile to see that at least
there is still some form of rebellion in my pain
Fuel in my hatred
Energy in this maddness

7:30 p.m
No more customers
No more liars
No more fuckers
Masochists
Sadists
Machinists
Wage slaves
Soldiers
Losers
Downers
and down right cunts
I am free of the shackles of time control
Finally get to crawl into the pub
Maybe sit down at home with a jug or 2 of wine
Whiskey, Beer, or anything releaving
Or so I choose to believe for the next 6 - 7 hours
Would you look at that
Already counting
Counting down to doomsday
Remorse
More regret
Another drink or drinks
Another day of piss

Stinking... Warm... Piss