Charles Bukowski and the Emo-Girl

in the back of the bus they sit akwardly across from each other. the smell of pabst and pall mall cigerettes magnetically repells against strawberry revlon lipgloss and hairspary. he is trying not to hear her headphones blaring fergy and she is trying not notice the stains on his shirt. he is thinking of neon exit signs and fishnet stockings on roominghouse madrigals who walk gently in the street under the red lights like cranes on a concrete pond. she wants more watermelon flavored chewing gum and to write endless pages about vanishing teddybear boyfriends and fluffy heart shaped clouds. the bus driver looks in her mirror at the pair and instantly thinks of rust on tinfoil. after that the bus pulls slowly to the next stop at the community library, charles crookedly raises from his seat and dissapears into the night... the end.. 'it takes more than time to live to long' bukowski