Diesel Kingdom

Diesel Kingdom

Aisle sitters demand their space
An orphan seat calls me
Standers are losers
This is my house
King of the bus
Ruler of none
But King nonetheless

Smokers, drinkers, loners, crazies
All fall within the borders
Of glass and steel
Subject to its shuddering confines
They eavesdrop
On neighbors wayward drivel
Wishing they’d shut-up

People incapable of quiet
Fondle Alexander’s electronic Bell
Workers gaze looks of dread
Out rain spit windows
A serf up front asks for change
I’d like some change, alright
The King of change

The bus stops here

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