Short Interspace Poems

Those long bus rides 
between Urbana, Illinois and Wheaton, Maryland 
were all in the interspace,  
hours of smooth nothingness punctuated 
by jangly nothingness 
at change points like Cincinnati and Pittsburg. 
Blurs in memory, dreamy, 
taste of intensly needed sandwiches 
and the desperate need to be clean. 
Long half-sleep voyages 
through fantasy, through needle-sticking 
drives, erection, thirst, 
looking out of the window for relief, 
only to see darkness....

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