[a Bus Of Kids Repair Their Toys] Poem by Aaron Eliad

[A bus of kids repair their toys]


A bus of kids repair their toys,
and some throw coins at a wall.
The hologram trees, not the whole,
only the good
a degree would have you suppose.

I thought about the meaning of life,
I walked into a wall
to throw coins and repair toys at.

I walked into a room
of people and pieces,
great and nice things.
some of them barely nice.
I won't say their names.

I calculated everything that was there,
and went somewhere new
for better acoustics.

I close the blown glass door
into someplace warmer;

you had followed me three days
stuck with slogans and awful music
that'll stick until you're fit to live.
I won't say your name.
Friends are tearful too.