The lady on the bus has a bloody thumb
She is small and old and she
speaks like a baby as she asks the driver
when Spring Garden is
where she shuffles out
but only after the driver
tells her this is her stop
I see her step off
and out of the light
and I wonder if we could find a vestibule elsewhere
where I hold her close and kiss her thumb
some warm money womb
where we shack up all night
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