| mad_eponine ( @ 2008-03-12 02:01:00 |
poetry (while) on buses
I whipped this up the other day. It can't be any worse than Poetry on Buses, har har.
I whipped this up the other day. It can't be any worse than Poetry on Buses, har har.
Metro route 44, 11:53 to 11:54AM I saw Corprew today outside the window of my bus. He was standing at the corner stuffing a laptop or something like that into his compact bag. 5 He looked intent. I thought for a second that he might get on my bus but it pulled away without him aboard. 10 I would have liked to say hello and inquire what he was doing. I wondered why he was on campus; I wondered where he was going. Had he eaten yet? 15 Corprew's a mysterious guy with his fingers in many pies. Nobody really knows when Corprew comes and goes. He moves as he pleases. 20 As for me, quite ironically, I got off at the next stop barely in time for class. No time to talk to friends; 25 a slave to the watch upon my hand. Unaware of Corprew's latest crimes.