Two Native Guys Meet on the Bus

Recognize each other right away.
Wear the international insignia
of street people. Stand face on face,
each a figment of the other's hard male dream.

I don't hear them, intimate and silent,
a fierce and appropriate sign-on.
Grasp hands in the universal hip handshake.

"Where you heading?"
The shake of his head slaps the question back at the sender,
saying nowhere important
but it's all I have.