The Observer

I close one eye
to lose my depth of field

I am so limited
to the infinite unravel of the universe
hinged to meaning
in patterns and code

I am thirsty -- so thirsty
someone near the front of the bus says,
"Thirsty."

The woman in the shawl
teal and sepia shawl
stands up to exit the bus
she slings a cloth bag over her shoulder
knitting needles poking out

The little boy behind me says,
"Why sideways?"
The boy's father says,
"Do you mean what is sideways?"
"No," the boy says.
"Why is it called sideways anyway?"

I am so limited
to the infinite unravel of the universe
hinged to meaning
in pattern and code
cold cold code

Young drunk guys
with wrap-around sunglasses
sit near me
at the back of the bus
stinking of booze
speaking maybe Greek
I look out the window
water so blue

I close one eye
to lose my depth of field
I am so limited
so limited
to the infinite unravel of the universe
hinged to meaning
in pattern and code -- cold cold cold code

I am thirsty -- so thirsty
someone near the front of the bus says,
"Thirsty."
During World War II
men wrote home
to women
waiting

One man's elegant hand
on paper wrote,
"What I miss most
is talking with you
about the beauty
of everything."

Everyone gets off the bus
before I do

I am so limited
so limited
to the infinite unravel
ravel, unravel
of the universe
hinged to meaning
in pattern and code -- cold cold code

Everyone gets off the bus
before I do