bus ride

It's annoying. Loud music, too many people, buses, cars, shouting, and a man sitting in the street.
A man sitting in the middle of the street, while all the above passed him by. So did I. I could not see his face. His legs spread before him, and his head drooping above his bent back, was covered. For a moment, i thought he was dead.
I asked myself. Is this sight here so ordinary that everyone is acting like it's not happening? Am I missing something here?
I moved on. Then i stopped short. I turned. I watched him, despite the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Are you dead? I said. His body twitched, and he lifted his head a little. That was all I needed. I turned again, for I had a bus to catch. And so did everyone else. And maybe him, as well.

twitch

It used to happen every now and then. Now it happens everyday. He does not know why, or how.
Sometimes in one, sometimes in both. Mostly the right one. Everyday.
It makes it harder to see, and it gives him an excuse. He can say "something's up with me, so let me be".
It never used to be this way.
He tries not to think about it. Except when he needs to. He tries not to think about his left one, which seems to be growing weaker and weaker, dragging down the right one with it. Except when he needs to, that is.
If he does, he starts thinking about other things as well, his bent back, his big ears, his physical weakness...and it does not stop there.
All because of this little twitch. Irritating. Gnawing.
This twitch, which now happens everyday.

the bird

i walked.
He flew.
We met.
He perched upon my shoulder.
I gazed at him.
And we both knew.

i walked.
He flew.

it's there

it's there,
big, black, and blue.
it's there.
Are you?