The pleasant day expressed
in the smiles of passengers.
Babes asleep, breasts all pert,
the Spring-time thickening.
The on and off from stop to stop
I smile inside – it’s life.
But what bitterness has brought me to this juncture,
where I peel back the pleasantries
and vent again, once more:
the words contorted – I am afraid
for I’ve had dreams
of which I cannot speak.