It’ll do no good, in 50 years, to have recorded The bus number and such-and-such a street Unless they reflect the way I feel, And they don’t. The way I feel, anything goes, But not this bus, the way it jerks across the city. Here are the city lights (I call them that, too), And they’re all right. And here’s a certain yellow Warming a street corner, which is all right. In fact, everything is really all right; It goes all right; it gets me there. None of it does me any good, though.
17 May 1979