Six Stops


Six stops.

Six stops, including a ten-minute changeover in Newark.

That’s how long it took you to get up the courage

To let me down “easily.”

Six stops.

Six, two-minute stops, as mandated by the New Jersey transit authority

Or God-Knows-Whoever-the-Fuck is in charge of counting

How we waste our lives.

Six. Motherfucking. Stops.

That’s how long I rode, waited, holding your hand

Feeling happy—blissfully unaware,

As it turned out.

Six stops of ignorant, trusting, 

Gullible, stupid, pie-eyed, 

Seriously misinformed

One-sided LOVE.

Six stops again tomorrow, alone.

Next time, I’ll fall for someone who drives,

And can unceremoniously ditch me