On bus with blindsters then next to me sits Blind Betty who says the toxins are toxic and that if we breathed in our lungs would bleed out our earballs.  She’s fingered all the Braille books on anatomy so she knows about these things she says.  The floors though the floors would shine like pool water like a mirror ball and so that might be worth a lung or two maybe.  Think of it like consumption Blind Betty says.  The people they buy whatever it is the neighbors throw away.  That’s consumption I say.  Floors you could skate on is how Blind Betty puts it.  You could see yourself in them floors she says.  Then that ugly mirror over the fireplace could go into the fireplace and cook to a burnished kindling is what I say to her but she didn’t even know about that ugly mirror in the first place.  I don’t know where it is this bus is going but Blind Betty says they are bussing us away from the toxins.  I haven’t been home since they promised to pay me to walk these blindsters around so they won’t bump into things and crack their heads open.  I haven’t seen my TV or refrigerator since the blindsters neither.  Blind Betty has never been home so I tell her stories about the TV and refrigerator.  How that the TV it squeals like a wounded bird and the refrigerator light never turns off.  I took out all the racks once and squeezed myself in to make sure.  She says I probably belong somewhere else but I’d miss it just the same.  I think she meant home and not the refrigerator but she’s blind so you don’t know.  She says I was made to work with the less fortunate.  I say unfortunately she’s true and that I could understand her mistake.  They sent me here to help blindsters for which they promise to pay me for in money and food.  I don’t know when they’ll send me back home they haven’t said.  I don’t think they are concerned with sending me back home.  Home is where the refrigerator and defective TV is and here is where the blindsters and toxins is.  That’s the difference how you tell them apart.  The job is easy except for walking the blindsters around and I don’t like it when they make me go out to the shed for wood to burn.  They can’t ask Blind Betty or any blind boys to go so it’s me they ask.  They promise me money for this but they haven’t paid me once yet.  I think what it is I do here I do for free.  I tell this to Blind Betty but what she says back is curse words.  Nobody here likes Blind Betty and this is why I think.  The last time I went out to the shed for wood to burn I hit my head on the shed door and bled all over the wood.  When I got back no one could see I was maimed and I didn’t tell no one neither.  So there I was with my head cracked open walking blindsters around obstacles and land mines.  The land mines can be anywhere so you have to watch when you walk.  Meantime the wood’s got things like termites and maggots or faggots or whatever Blind Betty calls them.  Blind Betty says the neighbor was a gay faggot and that you could tell by what he throwed away.  Blind Betty is blind so sometimes she says gay faggots and sometimes she says fay gaggots so you don’t know which is which.  Only fay gaggots throw away imitation fox stoles and eat up firewood in the shed.  Me I don’t know about these things.  I don’t know what good shiny floors are to blindsters or why they pay me to fetch wood to burn or ride on buses.  I don’t know when they’ll send me home but it could be when the faggots eat out the bloody wood or when the toxins aren’t toxic anymore.  On this bus with blindsters I’ll likely be home when I get home.