Double Decker Buses

487.

My photo - the bus seems traditional red but is in fact brown.

I sing of buses and their drivers –

Huge rectangular buses, with room for

A bedroom and a bathroom downstairs

And a kitchen and sitting room upstairs

(I know a man who lives in a bus like that).

With rather sweet helpful things like

Recharging points for phones and

A long lit yellow-lettered sign

Telling us where we are.

Those didn’t last long.

And there are seats of course.

*

But the palatial cubazoid buses

Must squeeze into tiny narrow stone streets

In Redruth and Helston and Camborne,

Streets designed for pedestrians and donkeys;

They roar up precipices by the station,

Turn at speed with half an inch to spare,

Slalom past idiot car-parkers

Dumping their motors everywhere.

I truly revere the driving skills,

The spatial awareness, the ability

Of the drivers to not bump or dent

The walls in their way,

Their courage at threading a needle,

Their patience with passengers (like me)

Asking dumb questions and their

Unconscious insistence that getting

A quart into a pint pot is

Entirely feasible. So it is.

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