"Going To Work"

No idea why the buses are bunching
I'm not one to complain
It means I've got my own seat
And now 'hold on' noise driving me insane.
Outside the sun is shining
As the traffic crawls through Forest Hill
Here I am quietly contented
Laid back and able to chill.
The journey might be dragging
Stop start, stop star, stop
But it's something I can cope with
Pen and notebook as my prop.
Scribbling down words
Perfect to wile away the time
I realize most of it's crap
My work's never called sublime.
Jotting down poetry
Bread and butter verse
It also clears my head
Keeping me out of a hearse.
With that I'm not joking
My rhymes keep me sane
The ruination of those I share with
Who might think it's a bane.
Bottom line is I'm near my destination
Another day of nine til six
With the bonus of arriving in a good mood
Thanks to my 185 poetry fix.


Dulwich Poet 14th March 2018


(Stuck in traffic, writing on the bus into work this morning...)