old,cold,tired and bored.(life at my bus-stop)

cold dark mornings,
bracing weather,
shuffling along,
ankle deep in,
brown,
rustling leaves.
to my stop,
and that cold,
hard,
red plastic,
seat.
within.

a sure thing for piles.

three cyclists,
two dog-walkers,
a jogger,
stickie,
and me.
the scene is timeless.
spanning centuries,
maybe.
that road,
those trees,
the squirrels.
since time immemorial.
parallel universes,
maybe.

and maybe,
i really have,
we ALL have,
died,
and gone to our respective,
heaven,
or hell.

riding that bus-route,
walking those dogs.
for an eternity,
or until some,
omnipotent deity,
decrees otherwise.

supreme pardons,
all round.

there.
but NOT there.

can't help but wonder.
wonder,
if SHE,
wonders,
if i'm wondering,
about her,
wondering about,
ME.

where she comes from.
is she married?
single?
divorced?
a working mum.
out at six,
every morning,
come rain or shine.
walking those damned dogs.

when she ought to be at home,
tucked up in bed.

some much i'd like to say to her.
like:

how are?
who are you?
how do you feel?
what do you think?
( about what?she might ask)
well,
life,
society,
sunshine,
gaddaffi,
champions league.
you have a pretty face,
nice features.
you don't need that make up.
i don't care about your size,
what you got in your panties.
it's what's in your head,
what's inside,
that matters.

smile.
make me smile.
say something funny,
amusing,
interesting,
say something that i totally agree with,
THAT'S cool,
THAT'S sexy.

and,
have a nice day,
tomorrow eh?

but what i'd really,

really,

REALLY!

like to say is................






































hello.

yeah,
i know.