Tuesday 9:00 AM by Denver Butson

A man standing at the bus stop
reading the newspaper is on fire
Flames are peeking out
from beneath his collar and cuffs
His shoes have begun to melt

The woman next to him
wants to mention it to him
that he is burning
but she is drowning
Water is everywhere
in her mouth and ears
in her eyes
A stream of water runs
steadily from her blouse

Another woman stands at the bus stop
freezing to death
She tries to stand near the man
who is on fire
to try to melt the icicles
that have formed on her eyelashes
and on her nostrils
to stop her teeth long enough
from chattering to say something
to the woman who is drowning
but the woman who is freezing to death
has trouble moving
with blocks of ice on her feet

It takes the three some time
to board the bus
what with the flames
and water and ice
But when they finally climb the stairs
and take their seats
the driver doesn't even notice
that none of them has paid
because he is tortured
by visions and is wondering
if the man who got off at the last stop
was really being mauled to death
by wild dogs.

This is my favorite poem. I heard it on "The Writer's Almanac" one morning on my way to school last winter. It really resonated with me. I was reminded of it this evening because Miriam asked what my favorite poem is. She had to ask for a homework assignment. I was about to tell her something by Robert Frost or Emily Dickinson but then I remembered this one. I couldn't remember the title of the poem though and it took several minutes of google searching on my phone for me to give up. I knew I had heard it on "The Writer's Almanac" so I went to their website and searched the archives until I found it. Now I'm posting it here partly to share it with you, but mostly so that when I want access to it again I can find it without spending 20 minutes on the interwebs.