Is This Life's Last Bus Stop

Peevish peeing on a 101 bus… Down the stairwell in no rush Where are you going - now alone? Southern cemetery to excavate— The marrow of a pelvic bone A life out of—some oily shadow Why do you look so curt? You're hunched-up shoulders They're so laden passenger with hurt? 'Have you spent a lifetime? Digging in the dirt'… Where sir are you, now, going? Looking so sorry, here, now to leave us… Ok, time is a gauntlet of fear As death comes ever nearer near O elderly, shabby gentleman Then, is this your life's last bus lane? Is this your life's last bus stop?