Phonophobia on the last bus home

Then it hits you,

the tortured metallic groan

of the bus's axle -- its vibrations as shiveringly alive

as that of your spine when you had once tripped

on two Chillums of Ganja.



And you almost lose it.



Then it hits you,

the teeth-on-edge tinniness

of the bus's windows -- a rat-a-tat-a-tat knocking

that could be your nails tapping on your teeth

over and over again.



And you almost lose it.



And then it hits you,

this bray of noises, this cacophony voiced by metal

and glass -- Is it natural? Or but just

the phonophobic triumphal song

of your loneliness taking you back home?



And you almost lose it.