one way ticket

by Will Schmit

A broken beer bottle in a bus terminal

bathroom threatened my throat, cut

my bellbottoms.

Locked in a mop closet I learned sexual

assault runs down your leg, heard the

last call to Buffalo echo.

It seemed timely to pee before a four-hour bus

ride. Being a boy, nobody asked what I was


Violence took a minute, took my

breath. Too late I made a fist, too

late, I took my seat.

Will Schmit is a Mid-Western poet transplanted to Northern California. Will has been performing and teaching poetry in between bouts of learning to play the saxophone for nearly forty years.

|| back to issue ||