Belleview High School
Instructor of English


The bus is yellow, really yellow

        alien among the murky

        mists of morning

Sitting on the spring-broken seats

        Why how never

        The triangular ears of the driver

        The name tag in matching puce

        declaring “Queen”

We never were  near this factory

        The bus gate against the road,

        The eight gates scrape along the asphalt, feeling…