I Should Be Banned From Buses

sun shines itself in my eyes. smile grimly. like greeting an old enemy. maybe acknowledging history with an interrogator. remember all those times screaming for mercy. face screwed into folds and slits. blinded by memory. we’ll be even one day.

 

today. angry with everything. the got-it-together girl. blue army trousers. a zillion piercings. green dreadlocks. a few years ago I’d have fantasized. being her. but now I examine her trainers for flaws. sneer. popular ‘alternative’ brand. yeah. who are you kidding. demands. like she’d acted superior towards me. hasn’t even looked my way. tenth storey above me. in maturity and self-esteem. exudes it. or maybe just the act. and later she’ll be at a party. snuffling up dregs and laughing with friends. over thudding music. that has to be sent off for. not even in the shops. order forms. not to be pretentious but because they like it. wouldn’t even credit me with the mental capacity to appreciate it.

 

I don’t know enough people. to throw a party. any more. not like those [sixth form] summers. loading up trolleys. with illegality. planning. paper plate full of peanuts. no one would touch. maybe feed them to the dog. who’d get sick. turning up that track. our anthem. f**k the neighbours. just for a minute. now shush again. because it was like an inside joke. something shared that everyone knows. creating nostalgia before nostalgia had time to grow. and someone would spend all night. speeding through my mixed tapes. looking for oasis. last track. tape all chewed up. scrubbing at puke the next morning. re-planting flattened flowers. wondering why I’d invited them over. knowing it was so. for once. I wouldn’t be drinking on my own.

 

 

these days I’m so busy. constructing derogatory retorts to bullies. that I’m too exhausted to provide. verbal first aid to victims.

Author's Note

Do the breaks work ok? Does it seem unfinished because of the last 'stanza'?
Thanks.

Reviews

[Bubo]

a few years ago I�d have fantasized. being her. but now I examine her. trainers for flaws. sneer. popular �alternative� brand. yeah

I need not eat my hat me thinks!
Very strong word, of society we struggle with daily............feeling inadequate, competiting, and for what?
A rather sad piece too, and reflective in a sense that we have a party to fit, not be alone, yet it
brings no joy or lasting peace.

f**k the neighbours. just for a minute. now shush again. because it was like an inside joke. a secret shared that everyone knows. creating nostalgia before nostalgia had time to grow. and someone would spend all night. speeding through my mixed tapes. looking for oasis

The flow throughout is spot on..........almost lyrical, and interesting in layout, as you would
expect a story...........

[Emily Rose]

Sometimes the fragmentation is a little much, but I think it works well enough, especially since the piece is so short - if it were much longer it would risk being annoying instead of making a statement. I like the fact that it's unfinished, too, although you might want to consider getting rid of the last period to give it an air of being even less finished. Good job.

[Solst Rapture]

It all works just fine. What the f**k is fine? Do you know what? Really? Well, I'll tell you anyway. It is not often I read someone and they tap right into me. The pretentious s**t I read and write tries to prise me away from the very thing that glues me together. It really f***s me right over. It's like I'm sitting in the hallway of a f*****g middle class balding pricks terraced house, yeah fuckem, fuckem, don't throw your ball in my garden again all I'll pop it. Oh yeah, f*****g dick. He has no depth and no soul and heart and f***s around with his secretary every weekend, or perhaps even on his lunch break, or maybe while he's typing she blows him off, and I'm pissed because I smell a bit. Everything is white. Of course it is, he's a pretentious f**k. I ate chili last night and really need to get out. TWAT. I've got f*****g s**t everywhere. I have a terrible nose condition from the s**t air. It fills up with s**t. So I want to blow it, but I can't do that either. I'd blow it up his f*****g walls. What the f**k is any of it looking at. I'm f*****g trapped by blinding rhetoric that pins me to my seat, his f*****g seat. I'll f*****g snap it...aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh. I see him walking toward me and I'm quivering at the thought of twatting him in the face, or him misunderstanding me, thinking I give a s**t about his f*****g mind. I'm seriously concerned about it, so I turn and run, not because I'm scare but because all I wanted to do was wipe my s**t all over his precious f*****g walls.

Ah! What on earth happened there? I think this is left over from one of your other books. I have read a lot of your work tonight, but couldn't offer any words of my own...because I had gone back to a place I thought had abandoned me. Not sure if I should thank you or click control alt and delete. You are completely disguised in your work. Well done.

[Raef C. Boylan]

05.02.08

Emily Burns:

I'm like Tam I don't remember seeing this before. It works--as is. Breaks and all. A monologue from somebody that's been there and done all that. It's strong. It works well.

[Raef C. Boylan]

05.02.08

Tl Boehm:

"these days I'm so busy. constructing derogatory retorts to bullies. that I'm too exhausted to provide. verbal first aid to victims."

WOWWEEE that's powerful writing. I don't think I ever read this one - maybe its new - or just a gem to me....in any case. I'm a little off today - but know that I think this is awesome writing.

[Jenny Davis]

This is VERY introspective and I like and respect that. You are clearly very intelligent and you know where your faults lie, so you have one up on the ladder of life in my humble opinion. Keep your head up and think more of yourself and less about the seriousness of it all...God bless ya ;)

[Emily B]

I was just saying to TL Boehm the other day, that not only should every poet have a song of myself. We should have one for every mood. The poet is supposed to examine those inner-most emotions, we are supposed to be egocentric. I like the last words best. Too busy to provide verbal first aid, which means in my mind that you know you should be concentrating on the positive end of the spectrum instead of escalating the negative with the bullies. Do we really want to be popular? Parties are loud. Hangovers suck. Neither are conducive to thinking.

[A.L. James]

Kinda low self esteem huh? Sounds like you are in need of a true friend. Most of your works have been very gritty. Is that a true representation of your world? If so I am so sorry for you. I suggest you may want to move from the place you endure if that is what you live with daily. As for the written word, as always, it is true to your form. Literary genius once again.

[TL Boehm]

my random thoughts never morph into poetry the way this does. Love the flow - the metaphors....replanting flattened flowers. to exhausted to provide verbal first aid to victims - that is a great line. The piece reminds me of ee cummings or ginsberg. Great write.

[October]

Not crap at all.
Actually, this is the syle
I've been trying at.
I really really love this.
I can learn a lot from you.

[Joe Butler]

brilliant, good use of language.