Bloody buses, like bananas, always come in bunches <br />But there are none to hand and the afternoon audition <br />Promptly starts at half past three so I will not pull my punches <br />When I write my nasty letter to the Transport Ministry. <br /> <br />I’ve got my mother’s dress on, the one in pink with zinc paillettes <br />But it’s getting wet and sodden in this sodding pouring rain, <br />While I am getting madder yet and sadder with a ladder in my ‘nets <br />And black mascara tears running down my cheeks and ears. <br /> <br />Forlorn now are my hopes to play the part of Cleopatra, <br />Chances are my rival, a transvestite thespian Chinaman, <br />Will win today’s audition though I’d like to place a fatwa <br />On his head, or better yet to put my asp inside his bed. <br /> <br />Ever since I was a girl, I’ve loved the esoteric <br />And chosen parts to play that often mother didn’t care for; <br />When I dressed as Nostradamus she became hysteric <br />And we had to calm her down with herbal tea. <br /> <br />Oh, who would be an actress with no money for a taxi <br />And a parent who had named her for the stage? If only I had listened <br />When mother had me christened, for God’s sake, as “Cotopaxi” <br />I’d have made it very clear that I wanted something better than the boards. <br /> <br /> <br />*Written in response to a challenge by Scarborough Gypsy to write a rhymed poem about waiting for a bus and being late for an important appointment and also including the words ‘paillette’, ‘Chinaman’, and ‘hysteric'. A 'pailllette' is apparently a metal sequin.<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/challenge-poem-no-3-waiting-at-the-bus-stop-or-c/
