Every time
this bus of mine
stops
I believe it is
home
and I hop off
but it never is
home
and all I can do
is wait
and wonder:
why oh why oh why oh why oh why
are there are so many
bus stops
in my life?
Every morning
I look forward
to watching my
half-inch of milk
diffuse
into my iced-coffee
and as I stare
I taste
all the things that are
diffusing
into my life
at this point in
time.