wrinkle-crackle crystal specialties

Driven Crazy

Driven Crazy

Driven Crazy was written after a maddening but not unpleasant bus ride

Mayflies decided to hatch this humid day
at the bus stop where the bus took forever
a frenetic woman, flicking them away
tiny, harmless, but yet lightly
attaching themselves to our skin

At Bottom Dollar, in line behind a woman
with hips and bottom as wide as the Mississippi
groceries for a cavalry, maybe forty pounds of red meat
taking forever, and just at the moment of truth
the last item a carton of 36 Kool-Aid mix packets
that wouldn’t scan, so the cashier scanned
each one individually, and by gawd then her coupons

The bus on the way home never came, or so it seemed
Surprise! I got a seat – Oops, next to a crazy lady
who seemed to think I knew all of her life
and updated me with the same all the way
while a guy with an ipod sang along aloud
and two others couldn’t stop yakkin’ bout nuthin’

Same busdriver I had on the way down, kinda looney himself
liked to drive with no hands and kept asking himself –
in a half empty bus, if there was room for more fares

driving me crazy