one of the two men
who started yelling,
running from the back of the bus
smokes now outside
my window
blows out a cloud between
broken teeth

"we stuck on the highway
right now"
he slurs into the phone
describes the location
by the school
by apartment buildings
how smoke billowed from the back seats
smelled just like a plastic plate
left on the burner

vast pile of something
leans over the empty lot
like a hunchback
draped in black tarp
tied down and weighted
and even from afar
looking down from the bridge
its like a tumor

its the way her features slump
when the happy face
slips off
before she's able
to gulp down
the embarrassment