Two Sons, One Dirty, One Beaten (a sestina)
Sunday, March 20th, 2005 In the back of the bus the violence is unheard over the growl of the engine.
Seat across from me- He has long fingernails. I don’t trust him, picks his nose with them then smacks his son.
I am trying to kill him through some kind of telepathy.
Seat in front of me- says “sleepy” in markered art […]