Terminal

I’m waiting
In an over-crowded terminal
For a bus that leads to nowhere

I sit and read the paper
And look around the room
For perhaps some interesting faces

Though my eyes search with diligence
Across the boundless sea of people
Made of very different backgrounds

I see no individuals

But only a gray mass of empty heads
With vapid faces
Blank expressions
Stare back.

And though I feel so isolated
Disconnected
Higher than this massive crowd

I know that I am a part of the amorphous body
which heaves and emits noxious fumes
and stale ideas.

Clawing my way to the top
Gasping for fresh air
I am stampeded
By the crushing, wrinkled elephant foot of stagnation.