Bus Stop
I thought the Metro bus was coming.
I saw its LED display
a few blocks away.
But there it stayed, twinkling.
Maybe it wasn’t a bus.
Maybe it was just the season’s more luminous leaves.
This would have been
the third optical illusion today.
A demon turned out to be a neighbor’s picnic umbrella.
A centaur, but really only you,
wearing just my shirt.
Unlike illusions, days are kinetic.
No more waiting.
Lights approaching.
The #8 emerging from leaves.
Desire Bench
Johnny Rotten Shoes and me,
the best Metro planners there be.
We came across a discarded futon frame,
And left it at the #48.
Reframe your city
Reclaim your infrastructure:
The apartment building walk-up railings look like symphony harps.
Pedestrian signs don’t need words, just keyboard flats and sharps.
In her book, NYC’s DOT director explained desire lines like this:
“The spontaneous way people use public spaces, often contradicting the way the space was
designed. These signatures are usually direct, practical, and leave physical evidence behind.”
If you’re waiting for the #48,
but you don’t want to stand,
our futon frame is still there
for your weight—
and per public demand.