observations...

Riding the Bus thru Chinatown

We are
Dreadlocked Nubian
Shaggy blonde woman
Purple-haired boys on bikes
Pierced and tattooed Indian
Brown black and asian
We are
Every man
And no man
Wealthy attorney
Homeless veteran
Opposite/equal
Victim and oppressor
Moving moving moving
Waiting waiting waiting
We are
Breathless
Never stopping
Forever shopping
Consuming
Partaking
Dreaming
Scheming
Laughing
Lying
Living
Giving less
Taking more
We are
Fake smiles after a day of working
Frowns while we play
Never happy nor satisfied
Chasing that entertainment “high”
The air is filled with music
Pulsing beeping blaring from
Sherbet colored cell phones
Blinking blue lights flashing
America’s personal EKG
“can you hear me now?”
Can you see me?
Feel me?
Touch me?
We are
Speeding by
Candy painted eco friendly vehicles
With TV screens in headrests
Originality?
Scarce commodity
Art? No.
Shoveling soggy handfuls of scripted insanity
Labeled R-E-A-L-I-T-Y programming
Down our collectively parched gullets
Overly seasoned with commercials
Featuring prizes to games
We can’t afford to play
But dying to be a part of
Forcing us to quench our thirst
With more brine- and booze-soaked
Social commentary
Also known as the 6 o’clock news
The bus stops here
We are
Home.

© Hatina’ N. Covington 3-25-2008