I Know Thee Who Thou Art

Chilled in the dusty nearly level sun
Of March among the buildings, I decide
To ambush buses elsewhere; then, one comes.
(The urban gospel: 'Sod's Law will provide.')

I settle by a window, in the last
Place left where one can keep on being one.
The man behind me dithers in the aisle
Among averted eyes and sprawling bums,
...