Bus Driver
He looked safe behind glass partitions
walls people build to keep fear away
almost as if in the placenta, uterus protecting
flexibility, giggling emotion
before the first cry of disappointment
reborn anxiety, vague exegesis
of coming into the painful world
with fluidity in his movement he
gave me my transfer absentmindedly
carefully perusing the world
passing in front of him, giving
and collecting in rhythm with
society’s rules perfectly tuned
to the holy mastermind
while a second world behind the driver
two juveniles debating
who of them would punch
the old man sitting in front of them
just to add indisputable importance
to their unimportant existence when
the driver gazed at them in the mirror
and his mind run to the third world
focused on his wife who left him a month ago
driver floated in three-dimensional world
and he looked safe behind glass partitions
almost as if in his mother’s womb
just before his first cry was heard
just before he committed his first sin
just before he came into being
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 