Bus Ride
A break from the heat, though the AC relief
lasts only a few minutes before
I take it for granted. Feels like nothing now.
We pass a school I didn’t attend, a life
I didn’t live. We pass my friend’s college dorm,
where I stayed sometimes, a guest or a ghost.
Even when I close my eyes, sunlight persists.
A guy comes on soaked in cologne
that doesn’t remind me of anyone. We pass
the speed limit sign, 40, like all signs this year.