Perhaps on a whim,
I take a pilgrimage upon the buses,
Public transport cruise liner,
Past the blank-faced operator,
Sitting comfy amongst trash and the trashy,
Taking in all of the voices,
From my fellow bus ticket colleagues,
The factoids,
The information,
Barely a smirk between us,

Double-decker sardine tin on wheels,
From these cheap fabric thrones,
The views are magnificent,
Grey spires beside grey blocks,
Slate upon grey upon ash,
With a dash of fecal brown for a change,
It’s enough to bring a tear to the eye,
Until my stop beckons,
And those motorised doors open,
I finally escape into that gloomy grey.

  1. Perfectly captured the experience in poetic finery. 👍👍

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s