The Endings of Things
I was on Geary Street waiting for a bus
and a few feet from the stop there was a guy
on the sidewalk yelling
at the passenger side window of an idling car,
the shape of a woman in the driver’s seat.
Let me in, he yelled,
I promise I won’t talk about it anymore!
I didn’t like the way the guy was dressed
or the sound of his voice, so I imagined his transgressions
and condemned him accordingly.
Open the goddamned door, he yelled,
I told you I won’t talk abut it anymore!
He hit the window a few times with the palm of his hand.
The door didn’t open, but the car didn’t move.
I didn’t know the facts, maybe the driver
was completely at fault, but I very much wanted
to see the car speed away and leave him there,
seething in his backwards baseball cap.
I sensed my bus stop brethren were of a similar mind.
After a few minutes more of his yelling and pounding
the door finally opened and he climbed inside.
The yelling continued as the car sped off.
All of us bus stop people turned away, disappointed,
as usual, at the endings of things.
People are weak and the bus was already
7 minutes late so I just walked.
_____________
What the Radio Says
Don’t, as they say,
kill the messenger,
but I am here to
gently remind you
that Jesus isn’t
coming back,
and what if he did?
I might also mention
that no matter what
the radio says,
love is not enough,
and contrary to the
teachings of any number
of inspirational memes,
humanity will embrace no
heretofore undiscovered
courage or wisdom
as our carefully
curated nightmares
grow bored and
hungry, blinking
beneath a dying sun.
We’ll have to make do
with whatever beauty
we’ve hoarded and hidden
in the secret pockets
of our favorite shirts.
Be careful, trust no one,
and give nothing away,
because you’re
gonna need it all
and then some when
this whole mess
goes sideways
next year or a week
from Tuesday.