Bus 8
Bus 8
On the bus 8, to Garston I met my future wife I was going
to meet someone at the British Legion there, something
about a job on a ship. At an outdoor we bought cans of
coke and also bottle of rum, the job thing was forgotten
I thought she was the most understanding woman I had
ever met. A fortnight later we got married, people I didn’t
like much, brothers in laws, came to our reception.
Dreams never last, like a worker’s money, woke up one
morning; no smell of coffee from downstairs she had gone
out and left a note: “Get a Job! ” Took a bus to Albert Dock,
a ship there, going to Murmansk, needed a cook I didn’t
hesitate, signed on, every morning made my own coffee
and everyone else’s. I would still like to know if she, when
coming back from Garston’s shopping centre, missed me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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