waiting still…
sitting still…
still waiting till…
what time it fills…
till then it will…
the agony of being caught in a bus, inching forward every now and then towards an onslaught of anxious motor vehicles ahead squeezing their way through a pipehole drenched by the endless evening shower… that hopeless urge to get off could only be suppressed by the shift in weight of one’s flatten ass… i’m not hungry.. i’m not hungry…
time is what it fills.
