top of page

by S. Amos

S. Amos is a Philadelphia-based poet deeply interested in
the cognitive dissonance of social science within the built
environment, the heart in its rib cage, and the humanity in

Base cash fare /

It’s early and I’m doing my best

Are you going to 20th Street? /

To feel rested after rest

Move back /

To make room to have none and constantly think about

Is someone sitting there? /

Guns, germs, steel, the end of the world, the class that’s next

I don’t have it today /

Did someone say once that it would all work out?

Was the bus supposed to be here by now? /

There’s just this urgency of doubt

Caution /

That gets stirred up every time things start to shake

Can you cut the air on? /

That keeps God in the routes

Excuse me /

Tugging, pulling, pressing on, seems to take

Doors are closing /

Counterfeit energy, dopamine placebo, deep fakes

Detour /

That always keep me from where I’m meant to be going

Thank you /

Silently reminding me we do not control the breaks

It’s okay, I’ll take the next stop /

Such a certainty of knowing

*The wettest cough you’ve ever heard* /

Even though the cracks are showing

Bus is turning /

Earth is revolving, but how can we be sure?

Sorry /

It’s a large haul to be towing, but just as I start growing–

Back door

stoprequested (1).jpg

Source: S. Amos

bottom of page