Late Bus

The radiator in the hall is hissing like a snake,

and my head feels like it's full of wet sand.

Mom is working a double at the hospital again

so the house is locked and I'm stuck in the lobby.

My jacket smells like wet wool and woodsmoke,

drying against the heater while the sky goes gray.

Everyone else got picked up an hour ago.

I just want to eat a piece of toast

and sleep for three years.