Ten years ago, You Took the Last Bus Home was published. It was my first collection of poetry and incredibly, it’s still going strong. To celebrate the anniversary, I thought I’d share a poem from it every day this month, starting with the title poem.
you took
the last bus home
don’t know how
you got it through the door
you’re always doing amazing stuff
like the time
you caught that train
I took delivery yesterday of some advance copies of the gorgeous new edition of ‘You Took the Last Bus Home’.
In celebration of that, here’s the title poem …
You Took the Last Bus Home
you took
the last bus home
don’t know how
you got it through the door
you’re always doing amazing stuff
like the time
you caught that train
We stand in stoic silence,
peering through perspex panels
for the bus with our number on it.
All shelters in time are visited
and we, waiting, occupy ourselves
with a thousand tiny distractions
until we see it nose slowly
around the corner, and greet it,
not with welcome surprise
but with wretched relief
and, as we feel the press of coins
in clammy palms, we wonder
whether this is a poem
about buses and bus shelters at all
or, rather, one about life and death
because that’s the kind of thing
that poets write about
and we climb aboard anyway
as it is warm inside
and this one has free wi-fi.
i had always
wanted to go on
a busman’s holiday
so i saved up
for ten years
and then
five holidays
came along
all at once
you took
the last bus home
i still don’t know
how you got it through the door
but you’re always doing amazing stuff
like the time
when you caught that train