Saturday 6 October 2012

Bus note 22

Look out of the window.
        The roofs of the cars
        gleam with tedious malice.
        Each one is the same, contained.
These days I go too many times past
the entrance to Cannon Hill Park
        from where I ran, a thin kid,
        out from Singing into the downstream road
        to be hit and thrown up a good few feet
with a picture playing out
of a vase of orange roses
smashed and the whole of everything
getting slower and slower
       till I woke up to an angry driver
       and a halfarsed Sun.

2 comments:

  1. The roofs of the cars
    gleam with tedious malice.
    Each one is the same, contained.

    They do them up that way in the factory. It's the patina of the times.

    ReplyDelete
  2. ...and that patina is coming to cover almost everything.

    ReplyDelete