Crawl Space

There’s an

Empty seat

On muni


This bus

Has voided

And I have avoided

The fare inspector

Through the rear

Door chimney


It must be the

Holidays and the

Fare inspectors have

Grown white beards,

Gained 200 pounds

And the jingle I hear

Are coins I don’t have


There’s a seat

An empty one,

Two of them…three


A little leg

Thigh and drumstick

Room for these bones

Of mine

(And maybe a dungeness crab)


It feels good to

Get a seat


I’m so tired of

Ducking and dodging

The glare and glances

That say everything

And nothing


But this empty

Seat is mine

At this second

This moment


I’m going to

Savor it and

All the memories

That pass by


Looking out at

The unfocused

Images slowly

Coming into focus


Streets and

Corners and buildings

And an occasional face


I have a seat

Finally, in this

City of my birth


If only

For a



It must be

The holidays

(C) 2017 Tony Robles