Choice

Early, I shuffle into the soul- less bus-stop gathering, and am held upright and inanimate by buggies, walking sticks and re-usable bags made fat with High Street consumables, as I make my choice – Number 48 or Number 548? Twenty minutes or forty? Costa coffee won’t wait for a 48. Hudson’s rosé can make it…

Entangled

Giggles. Chatter. Unfinished utterances. Non-comments. Giggles. One sits in front of me. One sits behind. Great. No more giggles. Can refocus. Can read again. Giggles. More. Great. And I’m here. Stuck. And I’m trapped. Entangled. Entangled by headphones in front and headphones behind me. By wires dangling across, in front and behind, between, and either…

‘Bus Wanker!’

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…

Top-Down

Not keen. Not for me. Not at the top. Not for … Me? Orange, glossy, gilled, miniscule. Unwillingly lurching over, lumping back, avoiding shiny low bars – perfect for hurdling over – and secured by man-handled devices. A short, snappy jolt. Catapulting high, head crashing out of exploding glass, eyes bailing out, cannon-balled over into…

Tenner An Hour

‘Tisn’t bad, for a tenner an hour, to take the 87, for a morning run, for a couple of hours and a couple of passengers, for a break from routine, a drive to the town. The money’s not bad, if you’re on the way out From a life on the go … a pilot’s career…