Upon Black Coal Tar Poem by chizitere ojiaka

My appetite for food is put
away in a separate luggage,
which i send forth ahead of me
to prepare my destination for my arrival.
The journey is anticipated
while present happenings,
take hold of the present.
They hawk, they sell,
we buy, we eat, we get ready.
Our luggages take advantage
of every single possible space,
while human members press
their way in with no right or property
but the small seats on which they
have their buttocks fixed to
occupy space.
They own nothing for even
their luggages have been sold out
for space to keep them while
the journey journeys.
Through the journey, trees, grasses,
houses, cars and other partakers of
the road, snatch away their images
from my head like a fast forwarded
movie.
Human members chat with the
'chatables' while some stroll around
dreams with their almost lifeless
heads dancing to the tune of the bus
as it swerves, sways, brakes, gallops
or meanders.
In no time, our feet begin to cringe,
our asses burn, yet we have no other
option than to stack ourselves in our
space and sail through to our exit.
The final destination.