Fame

The bus, like a vanquished beast lay

sprawled in the middle of the road

as they go near to admire

the humor

and the dryness.

On the side of the road, a boy stands

looking firmly

on the tightly shut window

blinds admiring the spectacle

from the distance

of a shot. As the police came charging in,

children playing with cheap guns.

Then it hit the boy––

not a realization, but

a bullet.

Now he lays on a cot

eyes closed,

savoring his own fifteen minutes

of newfound

fame

before they come and carry him

away.