Night bus
By caribou_
- 344 reads
Entering the hidden cathedral of my mind
Through the back door of nostalgia
On the 159
From Trafalgar Square to nowhere
Across the Waterloo bridge
A flash of bright red OXO
People snoozing, people snoring
The electronic clock I’m ignoring
2006 arrival seems so long ago
And tonight seeing faces I thought I know
From workplaces left behind
When I was a different Jo
Kennington appears so fast
The crumbling barbers has got a sign that’s new
There’s the park I sat in after my second tattoo
And I’m on my way home, my way home
To you
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Comments
The Road to Nowhere
“On the 159
From Trafalgar Square to nowhere”
I used to while away many an hour by buying a London Transport one day rover card and just getting on a bus to see where it went. It would often take me to a place I had no previous knowledge of and then, after a five minute wait at the terminus, I would get on it again to go back to where I had started out. 'Nowhere in particular' was usually my reply when people asked me where I had been all day.
Years later I might end up in that nowhere again for a completely different reason. The memory of the first visit merging with the new experience of the second would give nowhere a much more positive reason for existing.
I enjoyed your poem. It gave me the chance to hop on the back door of nostalgia.
Thank you.
Turlough
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