jetsarefasst
03-29-2008, 01:10 AM
Cold bacon, cold eggs, cold potatoes
The bus to school was late again,
this time because the driver did
not drink enough coffee to wake him
and say a simple, “good morning”.
He was still, half-asleep, while the children
in their plastic green bench seats swung back
and forth to try and stay awake. Others were
trying to stay alive, but they didn’t understand.
The apple green alarm clock did not wake
his weary wife that day. (She painted it to look homey.)
Dreaming of each other, they both did not hear
the telephone ring twice. The USD 406 cotton jacket
stood upright, pressed by his wife’s iron the night before.
His supervisor had no choice but to call a replacement.
He also called the elementary school, where his two twin sons
attended, to tell them they’d be running late.
His replacement driver didn’t have a wife,
and he woke up on time, though his eyes
were still closed. The one-night stand he had
cooked herself breakfast in his small kitchen.
She had gone about an hour ago, from what was there;
cold bacon, cold eggs, cold potatoes, and the cold taste
she left in his mouth.
The driver didn’t see the signs colored orange
for caution, nor did he know the bus
was on the wrong road. He wasn’t experienced enough.
At least, that’s what the women said.
The children hit their heads on the window
and fell asleep to the violent vibration
when the Yellowbird flew off the bridge
into the creek below.
The bus to school was late again,
this time because the driver did
not drink enough coffee to wake him
and say a simple, “good morning”.
He was still, half-asleep, while the children
in their plastic green bench seats swung back
and forth to try and stay awake. Others were
trying to stay alive, but they didn’t understand.
The apple green alarm clock did not wake
his weary wife that day. (She painted it to look homey.)
Dreaming of each other, they both did not hear
the telephone ring twice. The USD 406 cotton jacket
stood upright, pressed by his wife’s iron the night before.
His supervisor had no choice but to call a replacement.
He also called the elementary school, where his two twin sons
attended, to tell them they’d be running late.
His replacement driver didn’t have a wife,
and he woke up on time, though his eyes
were still closed. The one-night stand he had
cooked herself breakfast in his small kitchen.
She had gone about an hour ago, from what was there;
cold bacon, cold eggs, cold potatoes, and the cold taste
she left in his mouth.
The driver didn’t see the signs colored orange
for caution, nor did he know the bus
was on the wrong road. He wasn’t experienced enough.
At least, that’s what the women said.
The children hit their heads on the window
and fell asleep to the violent vibration
when the Yellowbird flew off the bridge
into the creek below.