Poet#28 - "Yellow Banana Jumpsuit"


It’s a Small World After All.
That’s what I was thinking of,
Humoring myself as
I gazed out the window.

Fancying the bus to be
Some wild Disney ride,
That the people still waiting,
Instead of being so damn glum -

Beaten down, tired eyes
Casually pondering the
Fabric of their shoelaces -

That they would instead
Sing and Dance and Wave,
All together chanting
That ceaseless chorus
Which bores into your head like
Some giant, unswattable Mosquito,
Drilling in to lay its unholy egg,
Otherwise referred to as
‘It’s a Small World After All’.

With a lurch,
The bus rolled forward,
And from a slight turn,
I caught my own tired eyes
Looking back into me
From the rattling,
Plastic and iron window.

I was brought unfairly
Back into my own reality,
Heading home from the
Santa Ana Central Jail.

My friend had been laughing,
Saying he’ll be out Tuesday,
And I laughed back at him,
Though we both knew,
He’d be going nowhere,
While deep down I knew
That I might as well be
Sitting right there with him,
Dressed in a pretty,
Yellow banana jumpsuit.

I may be on the outside,
But you don’t need
Walls to trap a dog.
You give it food.
You give it shelter.
You give it a routine.
And however stale the meal,
And however cold the house,
And however hard the day,
That’s where the dog will go.
That’s what the dog will know.
And he is yours,
Before he could ever run away.

And so Santa Ana is my prison,
With nothing to do, nowhere to -

‘What are you thinking?’

‘What?’ I blink, and
Facing me is a pair of
Perfect hazelnut eyes,
“What are you thinking?

You look like a puppy,
That lost it’s way home’.

What was I thinking?
‘Oh, nothing important’.
She gives the tiniest
Curve of her lip,
And I give mine in kind.

Has this woman been
Sitting here the entire time?
She’s still smiling.
Say something, stupid!

And in the very back crevasses
Of my mind, something itches
Waking to remind me
That perhaps,

There is still good.











The End

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