Sonnet VII: Bus Part II

My thoughts change channels, brisk like radio
Waves of static overlap and compound
They surge until the outside world is drowned
I switch between music, news, a talk show
It’s all my own voice, nonstop toxic flow
I sit in silence hearing all that sound
Beyond my mind, other stations abound
Riding the bus, my volume turns to low
My rogue antenna mends, the signal’s clear
A man asleep, his current still as a lake
Despite pothole tremors, remains unstirred
A boy with headphones dangling from one ear
A woman speaks over the creaking brake
It’s all the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard