Cart on the bus

“To perceive is to suffer.”

Aristotle

he sits, head bowed, next to his cart

that contains all his life possessions

 

surrounded by people that are chained

in their business-casual wardrobe and arbitrary schedules

 

he is young, with dirty clothes and a skull ring

the girl in front of me keeps taking pictures of him

 

for what purpose, I do not know

his pain has no need for being arrested in pixels, I ponder

 

something pinches my heart

I can’t hold his pain in my heart

 

I step off the bus and shake my brain

dipping my memory in ignorance

 

to forget the reality that lies beneath

this beautiful illusion of a city

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