the bus stop downtown sits next to the
abandoned train station, where the ghosts
get up to play a game every now and then;
i spectate as i speculate about how they died.

all the way down university avenue, the bus
starts and stops and creeps with the crawling
swiftness of an infant, fresh from the crib
and unsteady of their feet.
this is tedious, as one rundown shop
begets another, and
one rundown love runs down another.

capitol city during a rainstorm is
a catastrophe; not of particularily
startling magnitude, but the smallest
of battles fought here chip away at the
cement of the sidewalk, leaving cracks
evident to the most naked of eyes.

as the first building of note in some time
passes into view, the apathy is so embedded
that i would venture to say there was no
reason to progress, but no reason to put
forth the effort required in reversing inertia.

i sigh, and as i watch the raindrops
slowly massacre the sidewalk,
the ghosts to arise.

07/05/2004

Posted on 07/06/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams