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

wearing.


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.


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