A poem from 1986
(For best effect
recite in Humphrey Bogart voice.)
I climbed onto the bus
it was the 139 to Dalglish Road
the driver looked at me
I stared at him
he looked at me a little longer
I could see I had him worried
“Dalglish Road”, I growled
“forty pence please”, he replied
I put my hand into my trouser pocket
and drew out some loose change
I handed him a 20p and a 5p
and hoped he wouldn’t notice
he noticed
so I slowly handed him three more 5p’s
and glared at him
“hurry up, please, young man” came the voice of an old lady
I turned around
and looked into her wrinkled face
I smiled
turned around again
and walked on
I elected to sit in the third seat down on my right
I reached for my cigarettes
but the “no smoking” sticker on the window glared accusingly
at me
I got up
and climbed the stairs to the top deck
there she was, ahead of me
the only other passenger up here
“of all the seats on all the buses in all the town you had
to get onto this one”, she said
I bent down to kiss her
but she turned away
how long had it been?
Three years?
I held her chin in my rough, manly hand
and turned her face gently towards mine
“how’s your mother?” I asked
“she died last week”
“oh”
did you ever wish you’d kept your mouth shut?
I know I do
especially went I visit the dentist
