Girl sits down in front
Her hair done up like expensive fruit
Outside the upper deck
A small hurricane picks up the many shoes
And deposits them
Further down the street
Behind me the people chatter
Like skeletons in red cars on rocky roads
Their jaws moving and clicking
Only a long plume of exhaust emitted
Mike Bones screws his fingernails into his palms
The buildings rise like vertical trains
None wave as they go by
