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POEMS

The Sky, Head On

Off On 1

 

I would just like to say

to you who sat beside me

on the H1 bus

which left at 7.55 am

and took one hour ten minutes

to attain its destination,

that I hope you relished

those two bags of

smokey bacon

you devoured for breakfast

half as much as I admired

the expert way you masticated

smacked and crunched your route

through Oakwood, Smalley, Heanor,

Codnor, Leabrooks, Somercotes,

and maybe I should also mention that

I finally decided

after sixty seven minutes

of intense deliberation

that the music from your headphones

would be best entitled ‘mad assassins

sharpen up their axe blades’,

though ‘fingers on the blackboard

with the needle stuck sonata’

would have come in pretty close.

Thank you also for allowing me to find

that I can manage with the best

of British passengers

to look ahead expressionless

while fantasising wildly on you

v  e  r  y    s  l  o  w  l  y    s  t  a  r  v  i  n  g,

while people way above you stuff

their mouths with crisps

and treat you to the bass note line

of angel choirs for  a  l  l    e  t e  r  n  i  t  y.

 

 

 

Cathy Grindrod