If it’s love you’re looking for

I saw chickens in the passing truck and also my reflection
inside the bus window. A young couple dressed in Puerto Rican 
flags sat bundled together in the back seat whispering a familiar language 
I do not speak. When he got off at his stop, she started to sing
that old Concrete Blonde song over and over but all out of order.
As we passed the shops in the Vista, she sang “we got lucky once before”
to a homeless woman with an empty stroller who wasn’t waiting anymore 
than the suits on Main who got the line “Oh, if you’re hurting so am I.”
She faded to a hum downtown and I sat back and closed my eyes,
remembered skipping school, taking the bus to buy records across the city.

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