The Bus Incidents

The Bus Incidents The Bus Incidents The one hour bus ride and the things we have to find to write about the less said the better has been dethroned today eye am a better than all of that myself eye am a poet in the frame of mind to dispel the darkenness of mores and upper crusting people on the bus the form of public transportation that is afforded to the poor and homeless poet that eye am. My ride begins at the bus stop and goes for less than one whole hour and there is never any lack of my material the words pour positively from the mouths of all the imbeciles. The lady was nice; the bus was the express the lad was burning the gas in his cart, Or mabe it was electric it moved without sound and upright and go fast for a two- wheeled contrivance the thing was running most silent. She asked the driver to “HOLD THAT BUS” The driver was pointing and asking her “WHY” lady we must be moving on, “THIS” is The Express, and I the driver of this thing will not wait for long”. Eye am waiting for my son. He is bringing me my coffee to me please. The driver smiled and still polite said “well I am not waiting long” for that not just for that. The boy on the two-wheeled cart contrivance GAVE to her her coffee as she boarded Eye am sorry MOM but I hurried and I come to you to give to you this stuff. The bus left the boy went on down the sidewalk and eye hurried to my transfer no wiser or Better looking than eye am then the bus started again and then eye saw the old homeless man At the next bus stop with the shopping cart He must look really hard for ALL that stuff Its hard to see he is my poor brother eye keep my own needs simple and eye travel light, And keep all of Egypt on my back, but some people need the even more security a four wheeled Shopping –cart can afford them. He had the thing loaded and even at this moment is still asleep In his blankets with a shopping-cart contrivance that is not his personal asset and very hard for me to even understand this shopping-cart man because eye am still carry my stuff on the bus. The moral of this story is to thread the eye of the needle a poor man can be blessed and fed without being a slave to his bed and this story has occurred in less than one whole hour upon the city bus. The rest of this story is just a rude conversation the author has rude poems four condensed into one please read them all.