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A school bus is a funny thing. It is a place where the various ranks of high school are herded into a cramped space, forcing a kinship of their district alone. Those who reign over us all, the preps and the jocks, the kings and the queens, ironically take cover in the back, as if warding off the demons of unpopularity. Distance is security, they are far enough to avoid, yet close enough to taunt.   A girl, blended into animosity, leans across her bench mate to sign her name on the frosted windows long since dirtied by classmates prior to herself. Her bony finger ends in a stubby nail baring the ill effects of winter on a manicured hand.  A

And it all came together with a crash an expanding singularity creating pure noise         Monumental foam rising in a desert sea    of waking    something. The monsters and the carnivores of the soon and the twisting never The cancers and the throbbing monads The green megaliths and groping summers The plush sentients       All at once. Ascending mightily a broad expanse of unbounded         Nothing? Surely not. But all the same expelling passionately the voidless form of before to sum up into waves of sonic being all that   would pass for passing all that would crash and scream and pass. Somnolence        and in