comes along. they all look
the same.
inside and out.
a man at the wheel
in his uniform.
his old cap
pulled down.
in goes the coins
into the glass box
by the gears.
the green vinyl seats
are hard, the windows
won't open.
the rumble of it,
the muffled roar,
the staggered stops
and starts,
jostling us along.
an empty cup
rolls around the floor.
somehow we get there.
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