What lies at the end

Of this long and lonesome road?

For me, Finch Station


False prophets fed you

Lies, false hope, it was supposed

To come at 8:10.


The perennial

Struggle, for those red thrones the

Elusive bus seat.


I am in the dark

Belly of the beast. It moves

Slow, the TTC.


 Driver, time lord, late

Or early, with one bathroom

Break, he seals your doom.