angst cycle (iii) — [щ] (iii)

by the way
talking about poison

i travelled the storm city
bus under that bridge
the only sensible route
eyes closed
listening to the heat death
feeling the poison shout

afterwards
the bus stopped
a she looked in
didn’t get on

similar looks
dissimilar tastes
garish and clashing
she never was

but
a nasty moment

this might take years
it’s silent now
unless something reminds
then the pointlessly made pain
yells itself again