January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I
Miguel Garcia

wackos

wackos seem to be every where
talking to themselves
smelling bad sipping kentucky bourbon
from 44oz 7-11 cups
nodding in the back seats of buses
handing drivers crumpled blood stained
dollar bills only to
be denied entry because
their not wearing any shoes

these weirdos are supposed to frightening,
loud, uncoordinated,
with famously poor hygiene
their supposed to frighten people
into nerves smiles, humming
turning the sound up on their personal CD players
change seats, stop talking and hold their breath

i don't know that i’ve ever seen a weirdo
or wacko.
i’ve seen drunks, and drug addicts
and yea, they sometimes could have used a shower
but, i guess some people were
just born reeking of jasmine

i’ve seen people who smell bad
who were drunks i’ve seen people in rages nodding in the back of the bus
i’ve seen people ashamed to explain that their shoes were stolen while they were
sleeping

and i’ve seen people in ties and suits
climb on the bus harass a woman and no one did a thing
not even stop talking

but so what?
i have after all been a drunk drug addict nodding on my way to the dealers
sipping wine from a futopia bottle stained
with blood
watching college students move away nervously
disgusted by my by existence
and hate full that i’m on their bus
i probably babbled too
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