Today’s view on the westbound 150 bus.
it's too late;
the suburbs are dead.
but i'm pretty sure
i'm still useful.
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listening to wye oak waiting for the 750 to take me to happiness is a pleasant reminder that there are beautiful things in this world few and far and between baited breaths you feel them deep in yr gut and yr heart and yr crazy double-speak mind they’re there it’s great it’s wonderful it’s marvelous it’s beginning to look a lot like new years everywhere i look i see FOR LEASE and AVAILABLE and NOT FOR YOU MIKE and GET ON THE BUS and ride it to the end of the line GOOD THING YOU STOPPED AT BEV MO BEFORE BOARDING it’s five o’clock in st. louis or chicago or dubai and i’m ready for life liberty and the pursuit of love and words and lobsters and backbeat drum kits and sleeping giants and dreams of duck boots and shawl cardigans and clouds but all i see is blue like my eyes AND ALL IS WELL IN THE WORLD lol really i cannot complain so don’t listen brethren ok listen PLEASE THANKS MERRY MARY
3:12 pm • 28 December 2011 • 8 notes
This is a whispery post because I don’t want him to notice me, but there’s an old dude, like a Korean War vet, on the bus wearing a dope green army jacket, ripping pages out of an old People magazine, and I just want to ask him “why?” but at the same time I think that’s kinda rude of me, getting involved in his private affairs like that, all because I’m visually eavesdropping, only due to the tight proximity public transit forces upon its users.
I mean, maybe he’s got a granddaughter making a vision board.
11:46 am • 19 November 2011 • 10 notes
Universal City Station
10:19 am • 28 September 2011 • 3 notes
Picture This:
Cuba Gooding Jr. with dreads, in a doo rag, wearing scrubs, eating Oreos, drinking strawberry milk, listening to Röyksopp.
Because I couldn’t get a picture of him before he boarded a different bus.
