works by william pham, 2005-present
To the Girl at the Bus Stop The bench must have been uncomfortable, with uneven wooden boards and wayward splinters that would have jabbed and pricked like the tops of chain link fences. Do I presume too much? Your mascara ran; your eyes were gray, and you crossed and uncrossed your legs, drawing attention to the discoloration upon your jeans, just above the left knee -- was it coffee, or was it tea? Do I presume too much? There is a spider building a home in the corner of my bedroom and I watch it, and I watch you, sitting on the bus stop bench, mascara running every day a marathon. Do I presume too much? In my defense I run just as well, away from the spiders building homes and the tops of chain link fences and the girls sitting on bus stop benches.
copyright (c) 2006 by william pham