Kierling Saturday

 

Buses on a Saturday

are not that frequent

to Kierling station.

 

Shops I had not noticed

in sequence

or remembered as such:

Pharmacy / Kredenz me /

Galler / Hairdresser / Wool /

Gschmeidler / Carpets /

Sun Teak /

I looked at this assembly

for half an hour.

 

The bus 239 filled to capacity

emergency seat at door

suits me just fine

travel with free market pass.

 

Buy single malt for ten bob

and three Bud beers

squat on a bus stop bench

passing woom – woom bass

bombards ones’ ears.

 

Beggar wants ten cents

man offers him a smoke

suddenly my body shivers

take a sip: Genuine – the

single malt echoes on my

palate.

 

Bus stops are horrid:

Stains of many kind

smelly acid wafts

diesel exhaust from

a myriad of passing cars.

 

Clouds gather

the tic – tic – sound for

the blind at crossings

to Kierling station

one’s body slumps on the

wooden bench

people run for catching

the next bus.

 

Journal poetry on the move

home to Weidling

and B’s critical assessments.

Ahoi.

 

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’17.

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