Kyle Schlicher


At The Bus Station In Charleston, South Carolina


The bus station is crowded.
People with places to go I suppose.
Cigarette butts litter the floor
And the smoke hangs
Upon the foul air.

The sunlight streaming in through
The
Windows
Catches
The smoke
And the haze is like a man made fog.

I buy a cup of coffee for a quarter.
I try to find a seat without anyone close.
Good luck with that!
I settle for an empty spot on the end.

Smells from the grill
Fill the building,
mingling with the smoke and
Certain human body odors.
It is not a pleasant place.
My coffee is hot
But that's ok.
I like it that way.

I relax a little but not much.
Too many humans
Put me on guard.
I keep my wallet in the front pocket
Of my dress greens trousers.
No way a pick pocket will steal it from there.
I look down at my dress shoes
And rub each one on the back of my trouser legs.

No one is paying attention to me.
I like it that way.
To them
I'm just another idiot dumb enough
To join the Marine Corps during a war.

I take a sip of coffee
My eyes scanning the building.
I do this without moving my head
And drawing attention to myself.
They've taught me well.

15: 35 already.
I only have an hour to kill.
Now, I have the urge to relieve my bladder.
Coffee does that to me!
I will wait for a while
Because I don't want to go
While I'm riding the bus.

I am young and I can hold it.
In boot camp
We could only go when the Drill Instructors
Gave us permission to go.
If you knew what was good for you
You learned real quick to hold it.

Almost 16: 15.
Time to make a head call
And deal with some of the weirdos
That hang out in there.

Just another thing to do
At the bus station in Charleston, South Carolina.

3-22-1967

Submitted: Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Topic of this poem: Life

Form:


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