Poetry Corner: “Dedication to a bus driver that will never know”

Dedication to a bus driver that will never know

blank paper makes as much sense
as the music of the turnstiles
constant inflow and outflow
eddies of confusion
fail to distract the frustration
and the odious discomfort of mesmerized pacing
brings little solace
as
insanity clasps the narrow ledge
of its opposite sister
masses of flesh ooze their way
to compartmentalized homelessness
a man makes love to his sherry bottle
amidst the red-eyed concert crowd
and greedy chocolate smeared wretches
who annoy with mimicked telescreened adventures

eros remains helpless
joylessly suffocating
while thanatos
gleefully offers an exit
and
frustrated young poets
sit in buses
unable to meet the 5 year plan of literature
futilely attempting to explain all