and so the first month of the new year is almost over. and all I've got to show for it is i, woozy from work, befuddled and hoping to sleep it all off, in this half-empty bus.
with my mails-all bill payments-adding extra insulation in my jacket pocket, I, surefooted, got off at the post office stop. as soon as the bus managed to plow through the frozen snow, puffing black soot behind, i saw pristine snow heaps left unshoveled and blocking completely the post office doors.
from across the street, a boy of twelve or thirteen with the clearest of skin, stared at me, his forehead never furrowing. with my hairy ear muffs on, yet, I could almost hear him say duh. I crossed over to his side and waited for the crosstown bus going back. could not bring myself to ask him whether it was really sunday.
and so I am here (or must be around here somewhere). a mixed up x on a map of my putative beingness that I have the slightest idea to read and never drew up in the first place. my life so far, a fog embraced bus, takes me to places not yet open and not yet (are they ever gonna be?) ready for me.