Old Gus (A tribute to the old Buke)

Gus stands on an overpass
looking down on the highway
watching life drive fast by
small scooters following
police chasing drunkards
from bars and
running away from
a fate worse than death

Fate worse than death?
What can be worse than that
wonders Gus as he spits
Boom, a loogie hits the tarmac
of a passing truck below
what's under that tarmac
What's under that cover?
Tables perhaps, or toilets
chemically cleansed for all
kind of old *beep* and piss

Gus stands on an overpass
wonders if he should
just climb over, jump off
and become a beautiful
smear on the highway
a red epitaph over an
anonymous life lived
on a mad suicide shift
but then again why
he says to himself
begins walking with
creaking kneejoints
wherever he lives
wherever that is