Changming Yuan

At the Station: A One-Act Poem

we are all waiting
    although not for the same bus
as shadows getting darker and longer
    our faces becoming fuller of fear
yet more familiar to one another
—still, there is no bus coming

the route may have been changed
    probably an accident has occurred
        i will miss my job interview
            damn it, dogshit,
. . .
—still, there is no bus coming

someone finally left in a taxi
a couple is walking away
several more are agitating
but i continue to stand still, waiting
—still, there is no bus coming

no one enjoys standing long for nothing
nevertheless i choose to keep waiting