34. the Tunnel Bus Poem by Eugene Issaus

The bus is absorbed into the tunnel
light arrows flying on my right
retreating fast, as the bus
rows from side to side.



Dizzy air running in through the air-con
Many people ushered into my eyes
simultaneously, each and everyone
whom I have seen today, yesterday, or
even appearing from memory, from
nowhere, from mystery, began talking in
their own tongues, in their own speed, in their own
intonation, purposes, piling up,
merging together, stinging and squeezing
my head, so that I virtually cannot
separate them from one another, nor
can I understand what they are trying
to convey, and even more fast spinning
sounds and images from the bus-TV …


But all the scenes suddenly dispersed—


The bus was softly ejected out of the
tunnel, returning to the peaceful night.
Heading home, yes, home-heading.