San Jose Bus ride

SAN JOSE

On a bus
from San jose airport, an old sikh man sat driving a bus
the long-term parking bus
he was old, and cracked
beard dropping, all white, picture a living guru Nanak

i watched from the back,
the sole passenger on monster bus, number 76765

could have been my grandfather,
should have been at home, with his grandkids
singing lullabies, telling stories, of rostam and shorab
of ali baba, and the mahabharata, and the exploits of arjuna
eating pokaras, and playing hulla gulla
taking afternoon naps,
going on adventure walks around the block,
and ice creams on sundays,
and soccer, cricket, provided he be the wicket keeper

why is the world turned upside down i ask? and why? anyone?

an old man, near death, cracked and coughing,
should he be working?
and bush and the fking senate with their fat pay checks and wives, retiring? Holidaying?
the googles and yahoos, and the promises of high tech and networking?
and what happened to health care, and the hand that extends, a prayer for the dying?


And the old man keeps driving, coughing and turning, stopping

upside down world, no grand kids, no solace, no comfort, no life, no nothing
old man the dark night is your comfort
death your kashmiri shroud waiting for the final embrace

And the sign as we pass boldy read, "Welcome to San Jose the heart of silicon valley, the heart of technology"

And i murmur, "technology my black butt"

San Jose Bus ride

SAN JOSE

On a bus
from San jose airport, an old sikh man sat driving a bus
the long-term parking bus
he was old, and cracked
beard dropping, all white, picture a living guru Nanak

i watched from the back,
the sole passenger on monster bus, number 76765

could have been my grandfather,
should have been at home, with his grandkids
singing lullabies, telling stories, of rostam and shorab
of ali baba, and the mahabharata, and the exploits of arjuna
eating pokaras, and playing hulla gulla
taking afternoon naps,
going on adventure walks around the block,
and ice creams on sundays,
and soccer, cricket, provided he be the wicket keeper

why is the world turned upside down i ask? and why? anyone?

an old man, near death, cracked and coughing,
should he be working?
and bush and the fucking senate with their fat pay checks and wives, retiring? Holidaying?
the googles and yahoos, and the promises of high tech and networking?
and what happen to health care, and the hand that extends, a prayer for the dying?


And the old man keeps driving, coughing and turning, stopping

upside down world, no grand kids, no solace, no comfort, no life, no nothing
old man the dark night is your comfort
death your kashmiri shroud waiting for the final embrace

And the sign as we pass boldy read, "Welcome to San Jose the heart of silicon valley, the heart of technology"

And i murmur, "technology my black butt"