"Bus Wank Response"

This is actually two poems...the first, in italics, was written in about fifteen minutes by a young mate of mine, the second is my response to it....as to which one is better..that's for you to decide:

"Bus Wankers"

Now I feel like such a tart
Cos this fat cunt just cracked a fart
And the reason I think he's such a twat
Is that we're both sitting at the back
He's ruined my fucking cherry pies
And I can't even shift to the right!
Cos I've got some seat hogger there
Who's just playing with their fake hair!
Fuck it I'm getting off the bus
What the fuck's all the fuss?
Why are we all trying to get to places?
When Dulwich Hamlet are playing!

(By my mate, 4th October 2015)

"Bus Wank Response"

I don't drive
Never had a car
So I use public transport
Going near and far.
It's my way to travel
I don't make a fuss
The old-fashioned British way
Not to shout and cuss.
I simply silently seethe
Whether upstairs or down
But at the very worst
I only wear an angry frown.
How I hate those tinny tunes
That no-one can understand
A racket out of their headphones
Or mobile gadget in your hand.
Then there's that real stench
Of your bargain grease chicken wings
Polluting my nostrils
The annoyance that it brings.
Then there's cards called oysters
Please don't get me started
I'd rather people caused a stink
By letting go having farted.
Delaying my journey
As you hunt for your bloody card
Just fucking have it ready
It really isn't hard!
But the worst of the lot
Are those human tubs of lard
Squashing you against the window
If you're not on your guard.
Please don't get wrong
I know I'm hardly slim
Being suffocated by blubber though
Really ain't my thing.
It's the price I have to pay
For using a Travelcard
At least there's the consolation
Of being a 'Bus Wanker Bard'.

Dulwich Poet 4th October 2015

(As I mentioned at the start, this is a response to a poem, and is on the same subject, which is using public transport)