Shouldn’t be surprised, but once again you display such strong fidelity to observation, Mark.
Your bus is a packed vessel of broken/destructive contemporary consciousness: headphones, phone screens, neon reflections. All of them are begging for attention, but in accrual they generate this uncomfortably composed atmosphere.
sophisticated sensory detail reads almost like urban impressionism. The individual lives & specifics are unnecessary to portray meaning. final line is crazy good, that lurch of the carriage is a moment of collective awakening, reminds me a lot of when the elevator stops in my apartment building & everyone finally looks up from their phones.
JC. Such a wonderful read of the poem. I love how you caught a mini-dilemma in this that I went through. A past version risked drifting into narrative and stories, but it felt like that was not the right place for it. I’m glad I removed them.
For me, that lurch was a key jolt to consciousness that we all feel sometimes, when drifting off in places like this, and also in your great lift example — an idea I might pursue as it has great potential!
The cinematic rhythm of this is incredible. It perfectly captures that hypnotic, slightly melancholic trance of a night bus ride where everyone is completely trapped in their own world until a sharp turn jolts them back into the shared reality of the city. Love this Mark ✨
Thank you, Brandi! That was jsut the feel I was hoping would come across. Everyone in their own worlds but glue together by the occasional jolt of life in the city. <3
I loved how the poem never tries to explain the night, only lets it unfold. “half the carriage shakes / suddenly remembering where they were” carries more life than many longer descriptions.
I love this I do it as well we write the moment what we see what we hear and it freezes this in time what you were thinking what was happening in your life at the time you can go back and read it years later and it’s a breadcrumb back to a self
Shouldn’t be surprised, but once again you display such strong fidelity to observation, Mark.
Your bus is a packed vessel of broken/destructive contemporary consciousness: headphones, phone screens, neon reflections. All of them are begging for attention, but in accrual they generate this uncomfortably composed atmosphere.
sophisticated sensory detail reads almost like urban impressionism. The individual lives & specifics are unnecessary to portray meaning. final line is crazy good, that lurch of the carriage is a moment of collective awakening, reminds me a lot of when the elevator stops in my apartment building & everyone finally looks up from their phones.
Killed it once again
JC. Such a wonderful read of the poem. I love how you caught a mini-dilemma in this that I went through. A past version risked drifting into narrative and stories, but it felt like that was not the right place for it. I’m glad I removed them.
For me, that lurch was a key jolt to consciousness that we all feel sometimes, when drifting off in places like this, and also in your great lift example — an idea I might pursue as it has great potential!
Such a relatable piece I felt like I was on the bus with you 😃
Thanks Aaliya!
Beautiful!
Thanks Meg!
Man, this is what I call B.eing U.niversally S.incere!! 🚌🗺🔥💯🙌🏽
Thanks!
Sometimes in life, the world decides to provide a little bit of a soundtrack… just for a small moment you can feel the rhythm of it all.
Perfectly said Dave! Thanks!
I love those moments!
me too!
Haha, relatable. The scene is painted so precisely that I could practically feel my face turning at the smell of a greasy late nighter x
Haha - Thanks MoTy!
Fried chicken and greasy chips everywhere!
I love poems that don't try to force meaning onto a moment.
This one simply pays attention, and somehow that ends up saying everything 😊🤍
Thanks Pelle!
Reading with the body will always be an interesting experience... and I love how your work lands and interacts with it. Beautiful work! ✨️
Thank you Mirage! And for sharing!
Anytime 😊
You’ve got a strong cinematic voice here. Love the ending. <3
Thanks Petra! <3
<3
The cinematic rhythm of this is incredible. It perfectly captures that hypnotic, slightly melancholic trance of a night bus ride where everyone is completely trapped in their own world until a sharp turn jolts them back into the shared reality of the city. Love this Mark ✨
Thank you, Brandi! That was jsut the feel I was hoping would come across. Everyone in their own worlds but glue together by the occasional jolt of life in the city. <3
You captured perfectly the London bus vibes 🙏🏻🙂
Thank you, Mara!
You’re welcome 🙂
I’ve felt this vibe before on the city bus 🚎 great tone!
Thanks Miles!
Welcome good sah!
The imagery is so so good. I could picture the scene so vividly in my head. I think I even braced for that sharp corner!!
Thank you Leonorra!
I loved how the poem never tries to explain the night, only lets it unfold. “half the carriage shakes / suddenly remembering where they were” carries more life than many longer descriptions.
I dig it
Thanks Alex!
I love this I do it as well we write the moment what we see what we hear and it freezes this in time what you were thinking what was happening in your life at the time you can go back and read it years later and it’s a breadcrumb back to a self
Thanks Olly! That’s just what I was trying to capture. Everything freezes around you are you drift off and then come back.