Some weighted women
took their seats next to me
squeezing into the Econo-seats
standard to the regional buses:
238/239/241.
Although B prefers them save for
the 241.
I don’t.
It takes some effort to write with
an ink pen on a bus ride
but it’s more legible than ballpoint.
The fat lady next to me utters
continually.
If it wasn’t for Mr T
I would not have taken to the road
to Vienna today.
Well just on my way I forgot to
invalidate my train ticket and
decided to step out at Schottenring
where controls are seldom done.
At that moment B phoned and
asked me to help her with the
loading of her mobile phone at
T-Mobile.
She waited in the lounge of
the Grand Hotel
where I fetched her cellphone
and walked to the Kärntnerstrasse
branch of the company
I call T-Mob for reasons
and the story is one of spiteful deceit
and or total ignorance on their part.
I’ll do it for her. She’s fragile and
a shadow of her former beauty.
Our lives turned out to become
difficult
but thanks to our robust natures
we are still able to cope
both of us.
At times.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’17.