a ride from the hospital

to ride the bus on a friday night
from the local college campus is to practice
my craft of observation

glassine girls with knee scars and ankle boots
cluster together, take sips from
wine they stored in plastic water bottles look around at
all the others riding into the eleventh hour
think to themselves:
is this the night/ am i something special/ will my eyelashes melt into/ my face

i sit without make up
without ankle boots
with knee scars, i write a poem in my head:
peaceful wonton frat boy noodle
hospital hugging girls

as the sky darkens and
the bus whooshes onward and my
college campus angels peel off one by one
swallowed by double doors
confidently they step, hot pressed hair and
nylon calves, the last things i see