bus tour 

the double-decker buses in manhattan 
are getting taller. a new level 
is added each day. now they're almost the size 
of sky scrapers. 
i noticed this only faintly
on my walk to work 
until a bus-tour sales person 
places a pamphlet in my hand 
& tells me i have to get on board--
tells me i want to go somewhere. 
i listen to her because this morning
every mirror i've looked in 
was fun house;
my skin turning liquid in its own reflection.
i look at my reflection 
on the bus windows. i am slivers. i am 
murky. a lava lamp of a man. oozing.
i climb aboard 
& the bus is full of ghosts 
just like everywhere i've gone recently.
i'm not a ghost but everyone else is.
i should have gone 
to work but then again
even my building might turn into a bus
by the end of the day. 
we're all infected 
with touring. we want to tour our own lives.
everyone on this ride has a backpack 
but we don't remember why. 
the sound of
zippers slithering open. are there snakes
in our mirrors. 
i climb the stairs taller
& taller until i get to the very top 
of the bus. dipped in cloud. 
i remember being very small 
& traveling to the city on a class trip--
i was disappointed that i
never saw a double-decker bus 
& look at me now--
living on one. the bus is moving though we're 
too high up to see where. our tongues
wriggle out of our mouths to become
the snakes they always wanted to be. 
i laugh viciously knowing i didn't call in sick
knowing that no one will noticed till
the end of the day that i didn't arrive. 
the buildings are full of working. my fingers 
are full of working & the bus waivers like 
a stop sign in the wind. all the while
the tour guide gives us the history 
of the world, starting with prehistory.
he describes the dinosaurs 
who might have lived in new york city 
& in doing so some of them
wake up. they break out 
from under the asphalt.
i watch them from the window & i'm convinced
they're not just breaking out of the street--
they're bursting 
from under my skin. we are 
soft creatures. we are easily climbed.
i imagine walking to the top of every single 
building in the city just 
to collect jars of cloud. 
i tell the bus i want to leave
& to my surprise it listens 
& lets me off
on some corner. 
people are pushing past me
to climb into the bus. 
the buildings are
wilting like cut flowers 
& so there's 
nothing left to do but find a nice place
to sit down. 
stare up at the clouds
& watch the buses drive through them.