From The Cynglish Beat, by Tim Reynolds. 2009.
THE BUS DRIVER’S LAMENT
Bitch and whine all you like, but here’s the bus driver’ side of the sordid story:
If you want to get him going, get her off on a transiting tangent, simply ask about...
Jammed up, crammed up, nerve-fraying rush hour traffic;
Perfume-bathers and their throat-tearing, eye-tearing, floral-acid stench;
Shower-avoiders and their throat-tearing, eye-tearing, armpit-acid stench;
Traffic-jamming bus stop parkers;
Unfair fare scammers;
Seat-slicing vinyl vandals;
Drunk punks, hammered homeless, sloshed salesmen, bombed bitches in come-fuck-me pumps;
Junior high flirts with senior high cleavage;
University girls full of their own self-importance... and senior high cleavage;
Old buses that can’t climb hills in the sweltering summer burn;
Old ladies who can’t walk or hold on but just have to shuffle shuffle shuffle past six empty seats to sit at the back while... we... all... wait;
Cranky old schedule-memorizing clock-watchers late for mall-walking club;
Turn-signal-challenged yahoos, idiots and gene-pool-cleansing dumb-fucks;
Bottle-pickers with torn and tattered, beer-leaking, plastic bags of recyclable refuse;
Bicycles needing rides but no bike rack to oblige;
Jaywalkers stepping out and bike messengers swerving in;
Toxin-smoking, cloud-wearers dragging fumes on board to share with one and all;
And iPod isolationists cutting off the world at volume beyond understanding.
Then there’s the upside, the side that makes a driver drive, an operator operate...
Kids from college full of knowledge and educational enthusiasm;
Toddlers full of giggles and wiggles and moms glad to just sit for a bit;
Seniors glad to be out and about and commuters glad to sit back and relax...and let
someone else deal with Rush Hour Madness;
Homeless folk happy for a warm ride and a welcoming stranger’s smile;
And harried, clock-challenged, bus-chasers thankful for a driver who saw and stopped
and gracefully accepted their gratitude before taking them on down the road, home.
~~~
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