Bogota Bus
Solemn saints and
madmen
careening through
chaotic streets
of early
morning dimness
getting me
to work on time
only slightly bruised
and only slightly sane.
The man beside me
sleeps, snoring
to the music of the radio
music fast and loud
surreal morning
salsa
as we speed by
shuttered shops
and blanket covered
sidewalk shapes.
A man sells
magic bracelets
to protect us from
the evil emanating
from computer screens.
A singer climbs aboard
and sings a love song
blending with the
snores and radio.
I’ve never seen
a robot
on the bus.
They take a taxi
or a private car
fearing damage
to their rivets,
or rust perhaps
from other people’s
sweat.
