0 Noah's Ark

I sat
Hyped
In this ride

I am seeing
From this square frame
Portraits of the outside life

A man selling dailies
A kid with jasmine leis
A mother with a kid
All for the grace of a dime

And even inside the confines
Of this four-wheeled coffin
Still are sights to behold.

The pilot blowing his horn
Road his home; memorized
Bottlenecking

His co-pilot
Nails long; hands gripping his coins tightly
Keenly looking for Judas not pay

The lady in black,
Rows ahead of me
Surrendered in the deep
Undisturbed of pits and hard breaks

A baby wails in unison with the croaky FM music
But the sounds turned indistinct
When the box started to fly

Different faces at stream
Studious, oblivious, but mostly religious
Calling out His name, of martyrs and saints
Offering their lives bound into the unknown

Minutes more
I
Sighed in relief

Espela the bus went
Thanks to the HighestRed letter day is still mine.