The driver is vacant, and of being bereft
Collocation of turn signals signifies Left.
This vapid collective’s collimation uncleft.
The silent collusion invisibly deft.
A Faraday Cage, yet accumulates static.
The rubber is wheezing, the bumps less emphatic.
The stratified aisleways appear democratic.
The shuffling shadows are pseudo-pneumatic.
Styrofoam thorns adorn the back of the bus
Where the cool kids sacrifice their souls for status
Prepackaged misery, ascending to ground level
The narcissists adjust the brake lines
As we all speed beyond the plumb line