Sonnet III: Bus Part I

A man on drugs runs the length of the bus.
The handrails help propel his giddy sprint
along the aisle. The twice repeated stint
Leaves him winded. He stops to stand, percuss
His chest, and hum, then sits alone by us.
Averted eyes observe the windows, squint
against the sun. Our eyes betray the hint
Of caution we all feel, but won’t discuss
Aloud. The eyes of relatives when they
Politely shun a drunken family friend.
Around the dinner table, we look past
him, look away, believing we’ll allay
our shared discomfort by playing pretend.
He sings that he wants the bus to go fast.