Car slows,
clatters on by,
caterpillar pace,
clash of context.
“Bus Wanker!”
shouts a spot,
a spot in a passenger seat,
a spot, that spreads outwards until it merges
at one –
with other spots.
A carful of pink youths,
blurred,
hazy …
Making a smudge in my notebook
of poems.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2017
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Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.
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