Cars And Dreams
One from the archive. I wrote it right on the bus, behind the guy.
[I spent a good part of the early 90s in the Czech Republic. It was very dirty, rough and everyone was dreaming of getting the hell out of there and getting some of the “things” they saw people enjoying on their TVs - “Dallas”. It was a good time and place to be a poet. Nothing sleepy about it, so much social change, overnight. It was interesting to experience and will have to write more about this Bohemian Bullrush at length. Book to be tentatively titled - Between Trabants and Tomorrows.]
BMWs in Bohemia
I am looking into the eyes
of a young man
looking at a BMW
swiftly passing
the bus we are in.
What is he thinking?
This man
with a $2 watch and
an unused smile,
a girlfriend knocked up
who he knocked down
yesterday
just before she told him
the news (and then they kissed).
Nothing, is my guess.
He turns his head
and bears down on his gum
throwing back his Michael Bolton hair.
For him the BMW
passed by long ago.