The Bus Against the Creek. The school bus slept at the bank of the creek. Blotches of brown crusted its face and a toupee of twigs and feathers made a silly hideous man that welcomed Ashley and I. The lonesome bus against the creek knew how we felt. Just to be stuck here, in this small fucking town, falling apart into the earth, I get you dear Bus. But dreams die and are reborn constantly. I dreamed of Ashley the night before.

No man is an island,. Every man is a piece of the continent,. A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea,. As well as if a promontory were. Because I am involved in mankind,. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;.